Home is Where the Heart is
by ellisaco
Summary: Peeta Mellark is an up and coming actor who just received his breakout role. Katniss Everdeen is a girl who is thoroughly unimpressed by this, and completely unaffected by all of Peeta's considerable charm. Will he be able to win her over? Modern day AU.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I don't own The Hunger Games or any of the characters.**

* * *

"I just keep wishing I could think of a way to show them that they don't own me. If I'm gonna die, I wanna still be me."

Peeta Mellark takes a deep breath after he delivers his line, keeping his eyes on his co-star Jerrica Lapiere. The script had distinctly said 'eye contact, eye contact, eye contact'. He thinks Seneca had even underlined it a couple times. He is nothing if not thorough.

She returns his stare, her eyes smoldering with unresolved anguish and undisguised hope. (Not Peeta's words but a direct lift from the script.)

"I just can't afford to think like that."

"Cut!"

Peeta holds back the groan that is forming in his throat and forces himself not to roll his eyes. He relaxes his posture and waits for the inevitable nitpicking.

Director Snow is telling Jerrica how he didn't believe her delivery. Peeta thought she nailed it, but Snow seems to have other ideas. Why is he being so damned picky on the last day of shooting?

At that moment someone opens a door far off in the studio and the suns pokes through momentarily, teasing him. Unconsciously, he stands up, as if a moth to a flame.

Snow snaps his fingers in front of Peeta's face and the door slams shut, effectively putting an end to his daydream of actually getting off early enough to see the sunshine today.

"Earth to Peeta."

"Sorry, I just spaced for a second." He turns my attention to our director.

He huffs, his ego clearly bruised. Now Peeta likes the guy, but his ego could certainly stand to be taken down a few notches.

"I was saying," he says, drawing the word out, "good job, the emotion was spot on."

"Oh," A compliment? Snow definitely didn't give those out freely. When he doles out praise, you _know_ you're doing something right. "Thanks,"

Jerrica makes a face behind his back in mock anger and sticks her tongue out at Peeta playfully. He covers his mouth with his hand to hold back the laughter.

He and Jerrica get back on their marks and get ready to film the scene again, for hopefully the last time.

* * *

It wasn't the last time. Not even close. They must have filmed the scene a dozen more times. Each time Snow had a different critique; Jerrica had to stress this vowel more, Peeta needed to lean closer when saying this word, they both needed to put more weight behind their gaze (whatever that means). It became increasingly frustrating. Just when Peeta's sure they are never going to escape, five glorious words reach his ears.

"That's a wrap on shooting!"

It takes all of Peeta's considerable restraint not to cry out in triumph and pump his fist in the air. He settles for shooting Jerrica a wide grin. She returns it with equal fervor. He just might get to see the sun today yet.

The cast and crew have broken out into applause and Peeta joins in cheerfully. Suddenly, though, the reason for the applause dawns on him. This is the last day of shooting. While he's certainly glad to finally have some time off, and be free of the long hours and ridiculously early call times, he's going to miss everyone. They've been together for months on end now, and he knows it's a cliché, but they have become like a family. He takes solace in the fact that they will be reunited in a few short months to tape the sequel.

He says his goodbyes to the cast and crew. He hugs Portia, his makeup artist, and promises to keep in touch. He finds Landon, who plays his love interest's best friend, perusing the snack table.

"Hey, bro," he greets Peeta, his mouth full. "Good scene. Although," he says, drawing the word out for a good 10 seconds in mockery of Snow, "I feel you were not conveying the appropriate emotional depth that this particular scene called for."

Peeta chuckles and smacks him upside the head.

"What would you know about emotional depth?" he cracks.

Landon flips Peeta off as he stuffs more food into his mouth with his free hand. He is definitely taking advantage of the last day of free, gourmet food. It never fails to astound Peeta how, the moment the camera starts rolling, Landon's goofy self disappears, and he completely transforms into his character. It really is a testament to his skill as an actor.

Jerrica appears from the costume department, back in her normal clothes. She kisses Landon and gives Peeta a hug in parting.

"Hey, Peeta, don't be a stranger. If we don't hang out before shooting I'm holding you personally responsible."

He smiles. "You sure you're not sick of me yet?"

"Yes," Landon affirms, at the same time Jerrica says, "Of course not."

"You know you're gonna miss seeing my handsome face every day, Lan Lan." he teases. Landon hates it when he calls him that.

He flips Peeta off again, as is his go to 'comeback'. He only chuckles in response.

"Well, I'm going to go back home for a week or so, but I'll text you when I get back to LA."

She flashes Peeta her winning smile and nods in agreement. They say their goodbyes, and she and Landon head to the exit hand in hand and otherwise tangled up in each other.

Peeta heads towards the back exit, smiling and saying goodbye to various people as he goes. He inches the door open and glances around the - unfortunately dark - lot, surreptitiously. It seems to be clear of paparazzi, which is shocking in itself, but who is he to question a lucky break? Peeta is really hoping to avoid them, he somehow always manages to take the bait and say something in reply to their prodding, giving them more fodder for whatever rag they happen to work for. Whatever he says usually ends up being misconstrued or taken out of context.

The running story the past few weeks seems to be how he is embroiled in a love triangle with Jerrica and Landon. It's pathetic really. He really tries not to pay attention to any of that shit, but word always comes back. (Usually from his mother, who religiously swears by her gossip magazines no matter how many times Peeta tells her that 95% of it is total and complete bullshit.)

He'll be glad to be home and out of the limelight for a few weeks. Even if Newport Beach isn't exactly living in obscurity, it's much slower paced than LA.

He pulls into the lot of the condo he has been renting and head up the stairs. He falls into bed, too exhausted to take anything more than his shirt off.

Peeta awakes the next morning, way too early, to the shrill sound of his alarm. He slaps at his phone and makes a mental note to pick a more calming ringtone to wake up to. He groans and rolls out of bed, knowing he left himself just enough time to get ready and get to the airport.

He hops in the shower and closes his eyes as the hot water washes away his stress.

Twenty over indulgent minutes later Peeta emerges from the shower. He checks the time on his phone; he's going to have to hurry. Just as he is pulling his shirt on and slipping into his sandals, his phone rings. It's Effie, Peeta's agent. She had insisted on making the trek out to North Carolina with him to ensure that everything about the movie was up to his (her) standards. Even if Asheville was, in her words, 'slumming it'.

"Effie, how do you do?"

"Peeta!" she screeches. "Where are you? Your plan leaves in less than two hours!"

"I know, I know. I'm on my way."

"Well, you'd better hurry. You still have to check your luggage, go through security, and bring your car to the checkpoint. I'm sure there will be unnecessary paperwork, as well. Honestly, it's as if it was the first time they've ever had someone request to have their car transferred."

"Maybe it is," Peeta suggests, with a shrug. He wonders if maybe he had been too much of a Hollywood diva, wanting to bring it in the first place. After all, he could have got a perfectly good rental. There's just something about that car that makes him feel like he is home, even thousands of miles away.

She scoffs, as if the very idea is unimaginable.

He hangs up with Effie and jumps into his Lexus. Fortunately the airport is only a short drive from his condo, so he makes it with plenty of time - in Peeta's opinion, although he is sure Effie would beg to differ - to catch his flight.

He drives his car around to the checkpoint that was printed on his flight information. He hands his keys to the valet and passes him a tip. Peeta pulls his hat down further and puts his sunglasses on, even though it's a short walk to the airport doors. He is trying for inconspicuous, but apparently his brilliantly executed plan has failed, because as soon as he steps foot into the airport, a girl that can't be more than thirteen runs over to him, breaking away from a group of boys that he presumes are her brothers.

"Oh my God," she shrieks. Peeta winces at the sound; it's way too early for any noise that high pitched. "You're Peeta Mellark! Oh my God! Can I have an autograph? No, better yet a picture. That way I can tweet it out, and Ashley and Kendra will be _sooo_ jealous."

She seems to be talking to herself more than him at this point, but he smiles and says sure. She practically jumps up and down in excitement as she calls loudly for one of the boys in her group to take their picture.

He walks over to them slowly, with a moody scowl on his face. He clearly is not as chipper as his sister in the early morning hours.

Peeta stands next to the girl and puts his arm around her. At the last second he decides to make her day and he plants a kiss on her cheek just before the flash goes off. She squeals in excitement.

"May as well give Kendra and Ashley something to _really_ be jealous about, right?" he says with a wink.

"I love you," she babbles in response. Her cheeks flush red with embarrassment as she realizes what she just said. Peeta smiles at her, in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture.

"Well, I have to hurry and catch my flight, but it was nice meeting you, -"

"Prim," She smiles widely. Peeta gets the feeling that she is a cheerful person by nature, but he's glad that he could bring a smile to her face regardless.

"Nice to meet you, Prim."

He heads to luggage claims, and as he walks away he can hear Prim excitedly relay the story to her group.

Once he is finally through baggage and security he meets Effie, Jerrica, and Landon at a lounge reserved for first class passengers.

"It's about time, man. You know I had to convince the pilot not to leave without you?" Landon puffs his chest out importantly.

Peeta makes a sound somewhere in between a snort and a laugh. He puts a hand to his chest.

"You do so much for me." he says sarcastically.

Just as Peeta is finishing up a beer that Landon ordered him, the boarding call for first class goes out over the loud speaker. They pick up their carry-on's and line up to board the plane. The second they are seated, Landon predictably orders another beer. Peeta can't help but smile at his antics.

He settles in for the long flight, consoling himself with the fact that in roughly 8 hours he will finally be home.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Well I'm glad people are interested in this story. Thanks for all the reviews on the first chapter, it's what inspired this quick update :) *hint hint* Also would you guys be interested in a chapter in Katniss' POV? Or possibly even Prim's. Let me know :)**

* * *

Six long hours later they finally land. Peeta stands up and stretches his arms over his head. Landon tosses the three of them their bags, then they join the queue of first class passengers waiting to exit the plane.

They wait by the luggage carousel, and Effie complains about the wait with each passing minute. Finally, they spot their luggage and haul it from the conveyor belt. Peeta almost falls over attempting to pull Jerrica's bag off.

"Geez, what the hell do you have in here?" he wonders aloud. "A body?"

"Very funny," she says in a tone of voice that tells Peeta exactly how humorous she finds him. Jerrica hates flying, and the long flight hasn't left her in a particularly cheerful mood. "Guys just don't understand the lengths girls have to go to, to be deemed beautiful in this society." She shakes her head in disgust of his male ignorance, and takes her bag from him without so much as a by your leave.

He holds his hands up in surrender. Over her shoulder Landon mouths 'PMS'.

"I saw that," Jerrica snarls.

"What?" he asks innocently. "I was just about to warn Mellark not to fuck with my girl."

He is distracted from their bickering when he catches sight of a young girl with blonde hair, sitting beside her suitcase with her head in her hands. As they gets closer he realizes it's the girl he took a picture with in Raleigh. Prim, he thinks her name is.

He looks around her in search of the boys she was with earlier, but they're nowhere in sight. She appears to be completely alone, and is being steadfastly ignored by every harried traveler that passes her by.

Peeta debates with myself momentarily. He wants nothing more than to get into his car, hop on the freeway to Newport Beach, and then sleep for hours in his old bed. But he can't very well leave this girl alone in the airport, crying.

"Shit," he mutters under my breath.

"Peeta?" Effie questions once she realizes that Peeta has stopped walking.

"You guys go ahead; I'll catch up with you later." he waves goodbye and then head towards the crying girl.

"Prim?"

She looks up and appears to be simultaneously shocked and embarrassed. Hurriedly she wipes away her tears.

"Peeta?" Her voice comes out strangled. This is a far cry from the effervescent girl that Peeta met at the Raleigh airport.

"Are you alright?"

"Not really," she sniffs.

"What's wrong?" He sits down next to her.

"Well, I'm kind of stranded here. See, I was with my friend and his older brother and I was supposed to get a ride home with them. But I was showing Rory and Gale the picture that we took at the airport and Rory said you were ugly and probably an asshole, and I said you weren't either and then we got into a fight."

He tries not to laugh at the idea of this little girl getting into a fight with her friend to essentially defend his honor, as this is clearly very serious to her, but it's too cute for him to resist at least cracking a smile.

"I was so mad at him, and I didn't want to be stuck in a car with him for another hour, so I said my sister was coming to pick me and that she'd be here soon. But she isn't, and I don't have a phone or any money." Her voice breaks on the last few words.

Now the logical thing to do in this situation would be to lend her my phone so she can call her sister, but Peeta feels a sense of responsibility for her predicament, so he feels compelled to take it a step further.

"Where do you live, Prim?"

"Santa Ana," she says, her voice unsteady with emotion.

He flashes her a reassuring smile. "That's on my way. I can give you a ride."

To her credit she looks wary of his offer.

"It's okay if you don't want to." he assures her.

"No, no!" She jumps to her feet and grabs her bags, as if he is liable to run away if she doesn't hurry.

When we get in my car he can tell that Prim is nervous. She's fidgety and constantly wiping her hands on her jeans.

"So, what brought you to Raleigh?" he asks in attempts to put her at ease.

She seems surprised that Peeta is talking to her.

"Oh, um, my friends were visiting some relatives and they asked me to come because I've never been out of California."

"Really? That's too bad. I've always had the travel bug." he laughs and Prim's nervous laughter joins his.

"You were filming the Hunger Games, right?" she asks shyly.

"Yup," he says with a grin.

"I can't wait until it comes out. I loved the books."

"Yeah, they were pretty cool, huh?"

Prim seems to be opening up and the two fall into surprisingly comfortable and interesting conversation until they reach the exit for Santa Ana, during which Peeta finds that Prim is a lot smarter than most her age. She directs him to a small suburb just outside the city.

He pulls into the driveway of old fashioned, two story house with vines climbing the sides. It gives off an aura of comfort and homeliness. He gets out of the car to help Prim with her luggage. Luckily it's nowhere near as heavy as Jerrica's.

Suddenly the door flies open and a girl with dark hair that looks to be my age, stomps outside. There's a fire in her eyes that makes Peeta take an involuntary step backwards.

"Prim! What the hell did you do?"

Prim casts a sheepish towards the ground, failing to meet the girl's eyes.

"Imagine my surprise when Gale calls to ask if I had picked you up yet, because you're waiting at LAX. LAX! By yourself!"

"Rory was being an asshole." Prim mutters.

"That's beside the point, and don't swear."

"It was really no trouble to drive her home. I live just over in Newport Beach." Peeta interjects, hoping to diffuse some of the tension. This was clearly the wrong idea, as the girl turns her hostile stare on him, as if just realizing he is there.

"And just who the hell do you think you are? Do you always drive unfamiliar, young girls home from the airport? Or is my sister just a lucky beneficiary?"

He is shocked into silence for a moment. It's not as if he was expecting a parade, but this inimical reception leaves him baffled.

"Kat!" Prim shouts.

"I'm sorry, she needed a ride and it was on my way." He shrugs.

"So you decide to take advantage of an impressionable kid who still harbors the delusion that there's good in everyone?"

Peeta opens and close his mouth, unsure of how to respond. He's not quite sure what he did to warrant this hostility.

"Katniss, you're embarrassing me." Prim whines. She's now standing beside her sister and tugging on her arm, trying to get her to go back inside.

Katniss ignores her and Peeta can tell she's about to rip into him again, but the door opens interrupting her tirade. An older woman who looks like a mixture of both her daughters steps onto the porch.

"What's going on out here?"

"Mom, Katniss is embarrassing me," She drops her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "in front of _Peeta Mellark_!"

Her mom looks over to Peeta and he smiles at her tentatively, hoping she's not about to take a page out of her older daughter's book and rake him over the coals.

"Peeta Mellark! Well hello, I'm Mrs. Everdeen. How nice to meet you." she says cheerfully.

He sighs in relief. She seems to take after Prim.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too."

"I see you've brought our Prim back to us."

He nods, deciding it's best if he doesn't say anything else on the matter.

"Well, you should come in for dinner!"

"Mom!" Katniss interrupts before Peeta can respond. "Don't perpetuate this. Besides, I'm sure Peeta has vastly more important things to do." She says his name like it's a dirty word.

Her mom laughs. "Who's perpetuating? I'm simply offering the young man the proper thanks for rescuing our dear Prim."

"Actually I really should be getting home," he hedges, sensing that his presence would be less than welcome with the elder Everdeen. However, the instantaneous look of disappointment that overtakes Prim's face forces him to reconsider. "Can I take a raincheck?"

Katniss glares at him, and opens her mouth - presumably to tell Peeta where he can shove his raincheck - but her mom beats her to the punch.

"That would be wonderful!"

Katniss gives him one final death stare, then turns on her heel and walks back inside without another word.

Mrs. Everdeen invites Peeta back for this Saturday and he takes note of their address in his phone.

"Thanks for the ride, Peeta." Prim says, seeming to revert back to her shyness after all the commotion.

"No problem. I'll see you Saturday."

Her face lights up as if she worried he had forgotten about the dinner in the few short minutes since her mother asked him.

He gets back into his car for the twenty minute drive to his parent's house.

I pull into the gated driveway and lug my bags up the steps.

Peeta's dad is there to greet him when he comes in the front door. He pulls Peeta into a hug.

"Peeta! It's good to see you, son."

"Good to see you, dad."

His dad is filling him in about how things are going with the bakery. They've opened up another 5 locations since he has been gone. That amasses to a total of 98 nationwide. His mother walks into the foyer and spots him next to his father.

"Peeta, is it true that you're trying to steal Jerrica away from Landon?" she asks accusingly. "I thought you boys were friends." She holds up her copy of People as if it is incontrovertible evidence of Peeta's wrongdoing.

Trust that to be the first thing that comes out of his mom's mouth after months of not seeing her son.

Peeta rolls his eyes theatrically.

"No, mom, it's not true. Almost nothing in those magazines is." he repeats for what feels like the thousandth time.

She frowns at the cover and shrugs as if whether or not it's true is inconsequential. He knows she'll buy the next issue regardless.

He takes his stuff upstairs to his room. His phone buzzes in my pocket. He opens a text from his childhood friend Finnick.

_'Dude, heard you're back in good old Newport.'_

_'I just got back, literally, five minutes ago. How the hell do you know this? You just been camping outside my house hoping to catch a glimpse?'_

'Yeah right, you cocky bastard. Johanna told me you were flying back today.'

Shit, Johanna. How did she know when his flight was? He shakes his head; stupid question. His mom must have told her. She always liked Johanna; sometimes Peeta suspected she liked her more than her own sons. She once said that Johanna was like the daughter she never had.

Immediately he begins thinking of strategies to avoid her. Crazy ex-girlfriend is an understatement when it comes to Johanna. Peeta knows that it's no coincidence that she began pursuing him again once his career started taking off.

His phone vibrates with another text from Finnick.

_'You coming out tonight, man?'_

_'As long as Johanna isn't going...'_

'Well I can't guarantee that. You know that chick is everywhere.'

He groans; he does know that. He turns his phone on silent and falls into bed for a much needed nap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Prim's POV:**

After Peeta drives away, Prim heads back into the house in search of Katniss. She finds her in the kitchen helping their mother prepare dinner.

"Katniss! Why did you have to be so rude?"

"Prim, I love you, but you're much too naive. You think just because he plays your favourite characters on TV, that you can trust him. I don't know how many times mom has told you not to talk to strangers and you not only talk to him, but you get in a car with him? You know better than that."

"He wouldn't have hurt me," Prim argues, "he was really nice. He stopped to take a picture with me when he was late for his flight and he came and asked me what was wrong when everyone else was ignoring me!"

"Prim, he's an actor, of course he would _seem_ nice, but the bottom line is you don't know him. I mean you don't find it the least bit odd that he would offer to drive home a young girl he's just met?"

Prim folds her arms over her chest, she's getting angry now. Katniss needs to stop treating her like a baby. She's more mature than she gives Prim credit for.

"You say I'm naive and impressionable, but maybe the problem is with you, you and your cynicism. You _always_ assume the worst of people. Like Gale for example, he -"

Katniss cuts her off sharply.

"Don't talk to me about Gale. You have no idea what happened between us."

"I know you blamed him for -"

"I said shut up!" Katniss yells, cutting her off again.

Prim's eyes widen, Katniss never raises her voice with her.

"Kat, I..."

"Prim, can you set the table, please?"

Her voice indicates that nothing out of the ordinary has occurred. Prim knows better than to push Katniss, especially on the issue of Gale, so she lets it go.

"Okay," she agrees softly.

Prim sets the table, glancing over to Katniss every so often. She is keeping her eyes steadily on the vegetables she's chopping, ignoring Prim's prying eyes. Prim feels a wave of guilt for bringing up Gale. She knows it's a very sore subject for Katniss.

When the family sits down to dinner there's a definite vibe of awkwardness in the air. Their mother tries dispelling it by making cheerful conversation. Katniss, in an unsurprising move, doesn't bite. Katniss' sullen mood seems to be infectious, so Prim's answers are only half hearted. That is until her mother mentions something that perks her right back up.

"So, Prim, what do you think we should make for dinner on Saturday?"

Prim visibly brightens, which in turn makes her mother happy, knowing that she has finally succeeded in lifting the spirits of at least one of her daughters.

Before she can answer Katniss scoffs, a look of scorn playing across her face, hardening her features.

"What?" Prim asks, annoyed.

"You don't actually think he's going to show up, do you?" Prim frowns; that's exactly what she thought. "He just said that to appease you. On a Saturday night, he's no doubt on the guest list for a million swanky, overpriced and underdressed parties."

Prim pushes away from the table angrily. She's angry because it's working, the seed of doubt that Katniss planted is growing inside her head.

"Why do you always have to be such a bitch!"

"Prim!" her mother chides. She hurries down the hall to her room before she can finish her scolding. That's probably where she was about to be sent anyhow.

She shuts the door loudly and dramatically. Immediately she feels bad for how she snapped at Katniss. Katniss is like a second mother to her. When their own flighty mother was too focused on work or wrapped up in her own grief, Katniss always made sure that Prim was taken care of. Prim isn't oblivious to the sacrifices that Katniss has made for her.

A knock at her door breaks her out of her thoughts.

"Come in,"

Katniss opens the door and Prim's cheek flush. Before Katniss can say anything Prim starts in on her apology.

"Katniss, I'm sorry I called you a bitch and I'm sorry I brought up Gale. You were just making me mad."

To Prim's surprise Katniss smiles. She sits on the bed beside Prim.

"It's okay, little duck. I need to apologize, too. I didn't mean to rain all over your parade, I know this was very exciting for you, I just wish you had been more cautious. And I shouldn't have turned your optimism into a weakness. Your positivity is one of the things I love about you, and I would never want to take that away from you. And I really do hope that Peeta comes over on Saturday, I just don't want you to get your hopes up, okay?"

"Okay," Prim returns her smile and reaches over to give her a hug.

"So, don't tell me you didn't think he was cute." Prim says, nudging Katniss playfully.

Katniss smiles and rolls her eyes, but Prim knows she's only humoring her. Katniss is not one to be easily swayed by looks.

"I have to get to work. I'll see you tomorrow, Prim."

"Bye, Kat. Try not to hurt any unsuspecting guys tonight." she joked, referring to an incident last week where Katniss had sharply twisted the arm of a guy trying to grab at her. The only reason she hadn't been fired was because the guy lied in attempts to protect his tough guy persona, insisting that he had barely felt anything. (Also, the owner had a soft spot for Katniss, not that he would ever admit to it.)

"That creep deserved it, hitting on me while I'm trying to work." She rolls her eyes and scowls at the memory.

Prim laughs and waves as Katniss walks out the door.

* * *

**Peeta's POV:**

"Try this," Finnick says, shoving a pill under his nose. Peeta backs up, almost falling off the sofa in his haste to get away from the offending item. "Dude, it's the good shit."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "It always is with you. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not into that shit?"

Finnick scoffs at his rejection and tucks the pill back in his shirt pocket. Which is probably not the best location for illegal contraband, but Finnick isn't exactly known for his brilliance.

"Your loss, man."

Peeta downs the rest of his beer and signals for the waitress to bring him another.

"And a round of jagger bombs," Thresh shouts after the retreating waitress.

The waitress brings over Peeta's beer, the jagger bombs, and a round of tequila shots that she says were sent over by a group of girls. She points to the girls and they giggle and look away shyly. Peeta has the distinct impression that they're not old enough to be here. He smiles at them anyways, knowing that they're expecting more than that in way of thanks, but he certainly won't be the one to give it. He'll leave that to Finnick if he feels so inclined, and knowing Finnick, he undoubtedly will be. In true Finnick fashion he gives the girls an ostentatious wink. Peeta chuckles to himself at his friend's predictability.

Peeta finishes his round of drinks and hears the warning in his head to stop now, a warning that, more often than not, he will heed, but it's his first day off in nearly a month, so he convinces himself that a few more drinks can't hurt...

"Oh, hells yeah, it looks like they finally got some _hot _waitresses on shift." Cato comments some time later.

Peeta turns around and sees a girl approaching their table with yet another tray of drinks. The fogginess in his head obscures his vision of her, so he can't attest to Cato's statement yet.

The girl approaches their table and suddenly an irrational fear overtakes Peeta's body.

"Katniss, hello,"

She looks over to him, and takes a quick glance up and down. Her eyes narrow.

"Hi," she says tersely. She turns back to the group. "What can I get everyone?"

Everyone orders their drinks and she's walking away. Before Peeta can think better of it he's following her on unsteady legs.

"Katniss, wait,"

She doesn't turn around and doesn't slow.

"I'm working; I really don't have time for this."

He reaches for her arm, and she whirls around quickly, a fire in her eyes. He withdraws his hand quickly and backs up a step.

"I just wanted to apologize." She doesn't say anything, she isn't about to make this easy on him. "I shouldn't have given your sister a ride home. I should have just had her call you. I'm sorry; I really was just trying to help."

"Fine." She slides behind the bar and starts making a complicated looking drink.

Well, not quite the absolution he was hoping for, but based on the chilly reception when they first met, his expectations weren't that high to begin with.

"You know, Prim is really looking forward to Saturday." she says suddenly.

Saturday, Saturday, he feels like this should ring a bell, but it doesn't.

"Saturday?" he asks, at the risk of incensing her further.

She glares at him in disgust. "Yeah, you promised my sister that you would come over for dinner. Clearly that was a lie meant to placate her, but I didn't think you would forget so quickly. I suppose I gave you too much credit."

Oh shit.

She's turning away, and Peeta knows this is a turning point in their relationship, or acquaintance he should say.

"No, wait, I swear I'm going to come. I just forgot, because at the moment I'm slightly intoxicated."

She looks at him appraisingly as she comes out from behind the bar.

"You know, if you hurt my sister I'm going to have to kick your ass." she says nonchalantly as she picks up stray glasses and bottles.

He waits for her to laugh to let him know she's joking; he easily has 60 pounds and 4 inches on her. But she doesn't even crack a smile, and he realizes she's serious. He looks her over out of the corner of his eye surreptitiously; (or at least what passes for surreptitious when one is a few drinks away from passing out) she does look like she can kick some ass. However, he is determined to never give her a reason to find out if his ass is one of the asses she is capable of kicking.

He shakes his head at the direction his inner monologue has taken and decides it's probably best if he sits down. He stumbles over to a nearby empty table. Katniss catches his arm as he nearly trips over the leg of a chair.

"You are so wrecked." She rolls her eyes and glances around at all the work she still has to do before close. She sighs. "I'd better get you a cab."

"No, no. I'll just call my driver." He fumbles with his phone and tries to discern if the number he just pressed is a 4 or a 6; the numbers are all blurring together.

"Of course you have a driver." she scoffs. "Here, let me."

She practically rips the phone out of his hand and dials as he dictates the number to her.

"He says he's already waiting outside." she informs him, throwing the phone back to him. He's amazed when he catches it, and stares at it in awe for a moment.

He gets up from the chair and almost falls again. Katniss glowers at him, as seems to be her trademark expression, and puts a steadying arm around his shoulder.

She leads him to the exit of the club and opens the door for him. As he's walking outside his foot catches on the step and he falls against Katniss. She grunts under his weight, and as his luck would have it, it's at that exact moment that the flash of a camera goes off.

* * *

Peeta wakes up to the loud whirring of a lawn mower. Who in the hell is mowing their lawn so early, he wonders. He rolls over to look at his clock and is startled by the numbers staring back at him; it's nearly ten. He jumps out of bed and groans as his head pulses in protest of the quick movement.

He grabs a box out of his luggage and heads into his bathroom. He opens the box of 'Golden Wheat' hair dye and quickly slathers it in his hair. He has had to have his hair dark brown for months for the movie and he's happy to finally go back to his natural colour. He never thought that brown looked quite right on him, although his fans seemed to love it.

He steps out of the shower and dresses in sweatpants, ready for a day of complete relaxation. He hears a knock at his door and invites the person to come in.

"Oh, Peeta, you've dyed your hair back. It looks very nice, perfect."

Peeta scrunches up eyebrows, slightly confused by his mother's compliments. She wasn't exactly what you would call warm and maternal. She probably wants something, he thinks, but he immediately feels guilty for his assumption. It's possible his mother is just paying him an honest compliment.

"So, are you ready?" she asks cheerfully.

Shit, she definitely wants something.

"Ready?" he asks cautiously. The only thing he's ready for is sitting on the couch and watching ESPN until the sun goes down.

"Your father didn't tell you?" He can clearly hear the falseness in her voice. This cannot be good. "Why I've been advertising it for weeks! I can't very well back out now, can I? What will our customers think? They'll think that we don't stand by our promises, that's what they'll think."

He cuts her off. "Mom, what are you talking about?"

She smiles at him sweetly, which is when he realizes just how much trouble he's in.

"It's nothing major, you just have to stop by the bakery, say hello to a few people, maybe sign a couple autographs."

Peeta's mouth falls open. Although, he really shouldn't be surprised, it's just like his mother to pull something like this and spring it on him at the very last minute, so he can't say no.

"Mom, I just got home _yesterday._ I've been working crazy hours for months!" Not to mention he's nursing a killer hangover, although he knows that won't hold any favor with his mom.

"Oh, Peeta, come on, it's not as if what you do is _challenging_." His mother has never made it a secret what she thinks of his career choice. If she'd had it her way he would have went straight into the family business.

"I suppose we can just tell all of your fans that have been waiting for weeks that you had better things to do." She eyes his casual attire pointedly.

Peeta knows that his mom could not care less about disappointing his fans; she's only worried about the business she stands to lose. However, she knows that Peeta _does _care about disappointing his fans. She's tugging on his heartstrings and she knows it.

"Fine," he relents.

"Wonderful!" she says, returning to the phony cheerfulness. "Your car leaves in ten."

He groans and reluctantly changes out of his sweatpants.

The car pulls into the parking lot of the first bakery his parents opened. There is already a line out the door. He walks in the back door and greets the employees. He heads out to the front of the store determined to make the best of the situation.

After a few hours of autograph signing, cake icing, (for some reason girls seem to be very impressed by this ability) and general lingering, Peeta's about ready to call it a day. Just when he's about to make his exit, the door swings open and he spies a familiar and unwelcome face.

"Peeta!" Johanna says in overly dramatic tones, "I had no idea you were back in town!"

Peeta snorts, but doesn't call her on her bullshit.

"Hi, Johanna," he says, forcing a smile.

He notices how every girl in the store is eyeing Johanna with disdain. Johanna, of course, is lapping it up.

"How are you? God, it's been too long!" She's definitely putting on a show for everyone in the store.

"I'm good. How have you been?"

"Oh, you'd know if you ever called me, Peeta!" She laughs shrilly, and like with his mother he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Sure enough Johanna follows him into the back room, and as soon as they're out of earshot of the customers she pulls out her phone and shoves it in his face.

"Who's this slut?" Ah, this is more like the Johanna he remembers.

He backs up a step to see the picture of him and Katniss from the previous night. It did look pretty conspicuous.

"Listen, Jo, I was just on my way out." he says, ignoring her question. He's really not in the mood to put up with her shit.

He walks right by her towards the exit.

"You're not even going to answer me?" She calls after him, incensed that he would have the gall to ignore her. "You're such an asshole!"

He sighs but doesn't break his stride. One day back in Newport and Johanna was already on his case, she just could not allow him one moment of peace.

He slides into his car and rests his head against the window.

"Where to, Mr. Mellark?" Plutarch, his chauffeur, asks.

"Home,"

* * *

**Prim's POV:**

When Prim walks into school the next day she is immediately flocked by the female population of her class, whom begin barraging her with questions about Peeta Mellark. Is he cuter in person? Is he nice? Are his lips soft?

Amidst all the fuss yesterday she nearly forgot that she had tweeted out the picture of the two of them. Prim blushes at being the centre of attention, although she secretly relishes it. Prim answers their questions as the boys stare at her mutinously, Rory especially.

"He drove you home?" Leia asks incredulously.

Prim nods. "And he's coming over for dinner on Saturday."

Was it wrong to enjoy the look of absolute jealousy on every one of the girl's faces?

"Oh, Prim, you had us impressed with the picture, you didn't have to make shit up." Lacey says, flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.

"I'm not making it up!" she insists.

"Rory," Lacey beckons for the dark haired boy to join them. He walks over slowly, looking dour. "Did you drive Prim home or did," She pauses for a derisive laugh. "Peeta Mellark?"

Rory snorts. "Peeta Mellark, yeah right. She drove home with us."

Prim stares at Rory in disbelief. How could he lie and humiliate her in front of the whole class?

Lacey laughs and several girls follow suit. Prim can feel her cheeks heating up. The girls disperse as Mr. Undersee steps into the classroom.

She can hear the girls whispering about her, which only makes her anger with Rory increase with each passing second. He takes his seat next to her and tries to engage her in conversation, but she ignores him completely. She's determined not to acknowledge his presence for the rest of the day at the very least.

Just when Prim thinks this situation can't get any more humiliating, Lacey taps her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Primmy, it looks like your boyfriend prefers your sister."

With a perfectly manicured finger she points down to her phone that is hidden from view from Mr. Undersee by her textbook. Prim follows her finger to see a picture of Peeta Mellark practically draped over her sister in front of the club Katniss works at. If it's possible for Prim's cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red, they certainly do at that moment. She whirls back around to face the front of the class and tries to ignore the snickers of girls she had mistakenly thought were her friends.

* * *

**So what did you guys think of Prim's POV? How about Katniss and Peeta's second encounter? Let me know :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Friday morning Peeta is awoken by the ringing of his phone. He reaches for it on the bedside table.

"Hello?" he says, his voice still groggy with sleep.

"How's my favorite actor this morning?" asks a chipper and familiar voice.

"Caesar, is that you?" He sits up and rubs at his eyes.

"Expecting another talk show host?" he asks with mock disapproval.

"No, I wasn't expecting any calls at -" He turns over to look at his clock. "6:30 am."

"Yes, I do apologize for the early hour, but I've had a last minute cancellation on my show, and a little birdie told me that you're back in LA. So, naturally you were my first thought to fill the spot."

"Now, why don't I believe that?" Peeta asks jokingly.

He chuckles.

"Alright, alright, you caught me. I meant to call President Coin but dialed your number by accident."

"Ah, the truth comes out."

After a few more minutes of playful back and forth Peeta agrees, and Caesar gives him his call time. He rolls out of his bed, regretful to leave the warm cocoon.

He takes a quick shower and then rifles through his suitcase, searching for something presentable for television. He settles on a white and grey striped shirt and his favorite worn, leather jacket.

Peeta makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a pop tart out of the cupboard, in lieu of a proper, healthy breakfast, which he doesn't have time for. He makes himself a coffee too, needing a kick start. He gets into his car, cramming the rest of the pop tart into his mouth in order to free up his hands. He sends Jerrica a text letting her know that he's going to be in LA and asking if she want to meet up. He hopes she has her phone on silent, as she's probably still sleeping. Jerrica does not take kindly to having her sleep interrupted.

Once Peeta is on the 55 and the coffee has kicked in, he's nodding along to the music of his ipod and looking forward to returning to the city he has called home for the better part of four years.

He reaches the city limits and drums his fingers on the dash impatiently. The traffic is one thing he definitely didn't miss. The sun is beating down on Peeta where he is stopped, and he turns up his air conditioning to the highest setting, regretting the decision not to wear shorts.

As the traffic thins out Peeta finally pulls into the studio where Caesar's talk show is filmed. He stops on his way in to take a few pictures with fans. Once he is in the studio he is directed to his dressing room. He laughs when he finds a basket full of peanut butter cups. The last time he had been on the show he joked with Caesar that if he ever felt the need for a rider that the only thing on it would be Reese's peanut butter cups.

Peeta hangs out in the comfortable room, eating probably one too many peanut butter cups, until a crew member knocks on his door and informs him he's on in five minutes. He waits in the wings until he hears Caesar's lead in.

"Our next guest has had a busy start to the year, first with his Academy Award nominated film _Today_, and now his starring role in the upcoming _Hunger Games_. Please welcome my friend, Peeta Mellark!"

Peeta walks out to a chorus of applause and the occasional whistle. The reception at Caesar's show always makes him smile. He waves to the audience and shakes Caesar's hand. He takes the seat opposite Caesar and settles in.

"Peeta, how are you?" Caesar asks with his customary cheerfulness.

"I'm great. It feels good to be back home."

"Yes, I hear you just flew back to LA earlier this week."

"Yeah, I just finished filming the Hunger Games last week. Now I don't even know what to do with myself. I haven't had this much free time all year."

He laughs, and Caesar and the audience chuckle along with him.

"So, for those that have been living under a rock, tell us what _T__he_ _Hunger Games_ is about."

"Sure. It's set in a post apocalyptic, dystopian future, and there is a dictatorship over 12 Districts from a central Capitol. And every year the Capitol chooses twenty-four teenagers from the Districts to compete in a duel to the death to keep the Districts in line, and pretty much let them know who's boss. My character is one of the teenagers that go into the arena to be a tribute."

"Now the buzz for the Hunger Games has been insane. It's one of the most anticipated movies of the year. What does it feel like to be a part of that?"

"It's crazy, I feel so honored just to be a part of it. Let alone to have such a huge role."

"What was your reaction when you found out you'd landed the part of Hutch?"

Peeta laughs, remembering when Effie had called to inform to tell him the news. He plasters a dumbfounded look on his face, eyes wide.

"That was literally it. I was speechless."

"Well, you have been named breakout star of 2012. I have a feeling more big roles are coming your way. Peeta, thank you for taking time out of your not so busy schedule to be here today," Caesar jokes as the show cuts to commercial.

"I'll see you later, Caesar,"

"Enjoy your time off, Peeta, you deserve it."

"Thanks," he says as he shakes Caesar's hand in parting.

He heads back to his dressing room to collect his things. He notices a text from Jerrica saying she would love to meet up. He texts her back, suggesting a cafe in San Fernado that is a favorite of theirs. The few customers in the cafe are usually either too hipster to know who they are, or they know and just don't care. Either way, Peeta doesn't complain. Sometimes it's nice to just fade into the background.

Peeta arrives at the cafe before Jerrica and takes a seat at a table in the back. He smiles amicably at the girl at the adjacent table. She shoots him a creeped out look and turns back to her friend. He laughs to himself; it never fails at this place.

A few minutes later Jerrica walks in, placing her Ray Bans in her curly black hair. She looks around and spots Peeta; a wide smile overtakes her face. He grins and waves her over. As she approaches the table he stands up and hugs her.

"Peeta! So, what have you been up to?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all and it feels _so_ good."

She laughs. "I hear ya,"

"How about you? Has your life been lacking since you don't get to see me everyday anymore?"

"Oh yeah," she replies sarcastically. "I've just been promoting my other movies, going to some events, catching up with friends, keeping Landon in line. Same old, you know."

The waitress comes to take their order and Peeta has to do a double take. With her long brunette hair braided down her back and her sharp brown eyes, she reminds him distinctly of Katniss. He wonders how Katniss will react to his presence at her house tomorrow. It seemed like he made a bit of progress cracking her icy exterior the second time they met, or maybe his drunkenness had just made things worse.

Jerrica is waving her hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts of Katniss. "Hello, earth to Peeta,"

He shakes his head. "Sorry, I zoned out for a second."

"Okay, who is she?"

Peeta furrows his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"The girl that you're currently obsessing over."

Peeta's mystified expression gives way to his utter confusion.

Jerrica laughs. "Oh my God, you're totally in denial. You were just thinking about a girl weren't you?"

"Well, yeah," he admits, "but trust me, it's not like that. I'm pretty sure she hates me."

"Who could hate you?" Jerrica asks sincerely. Peeta laughs. "No, I'm serious. You're the nicest, most down to earth guy I've ever met, and that's not common in our profession."

"Well, thank you, but I don't think she sees it that way." This bothers him more than he would care to admit.

"But you like her?"

"Honestly, I hadn't even thought of it, but she is different from anyone I've met recently. It's kind of refreshing,"

"Well, I hope things work out either way. If anyone deserves happiness, it's you, Peeta."

He smiles at her sincerity.

"Thanks, Jer, but I don't think there's anything to work out."

They finish their lunch uninterrupted as per usual, a refreshing change of pace from the busy, crowded restaurants in downtown LA. Peeta pays the bill, and he and Jerrica walk to their cars.

"So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?" Jerrica asks, standing by her car.

"I'm probably going to stop at my place and grab a few things, then head back to Newport. What about you?"

"Landon and a few other people are coming over. We're probably just going to sit out and drink by the pool. You should come over and hang out."

"That sounds perfect actually. I'm just going to stop by my house and change and get a few things. I'll meet you over there?"

"Sounds good." They say their goodbyes and get into their cars, each heading to their respective homes.

Peeta arrives home, and turns his key in the lock. He steps inside and looks around, somehow expecting it to look different. Of course, it's exactly as he left it months ago. It feels slightly odd to be back after such a long time.

The heat in the house is stifling, as there has been no call for air conditioning with the house being empty, so Peeta doesn't linger. He changes into something more suitable for the hot LA weather. On his way out he grabs a few stray things to bring back to his parent's house. He stops in the kitchen and pulls out a six pack to take to Jerrica's. He shuts the door to his house behind him, taking care not to drop anything.

Some twenty minutes later, he's knocking on Jerrica's door. The door swings open to reveal Landon, a beer in hand, mid- swig.

"Peeta, my dude," Landon greets him, giving him a hard clap on the back as he walks in the door.

Landon leads the way to the backyard, where Jerrica and a few other people that Peeta has met a couple times before are lounging.

Landon leans in and lowers his voice to a whisper.

"See the blonde chick sitting next to Jer?" Peeta nods. "She, for some crazy reason, thinks you're hot. Go sit next to her."

Landon nudges Peeta in the girl's direction, and Peeta resists the urge to roll his eyes. Landon was forever trying to set him up, no matter how many times Peeta tells him he doesn't mind being single, and that he also didn't need Landon's help in that department anyways. Peeta sits next to her anyways. At this proximity it would be rude to consciously choose a different seat. Landon grins and gives a not so subtle wink. Peeta glares at him in return.

Peeta cracks open one of his beers and starts talking to the girl next to him, who introduces herself as Brooke. The more he talks to her, the less annoyed at Landon he becomes. She's actually quite interesting to talk to. She's clearly intelligent with a quick wit. He cracks a joke and she laughs genuinely and puts her hand on his bicep. She's clearly flirting, but for some reason he's just not into it. She's gorgeous, of course, but for some reason his mind keeps drifting to a certain gray eyed, temperamental bar tender.

Damn it, he thinks, Jerrica is right; he likes Katniss Everdeen.

* * *

**Please review :) I have this pipe dream of getting to 100 reviews by chapter 6 hehe**


	5. Chapter 5

**Katniss' POV:**

Katniss rolls out of bed late the next morning, having got home from work late last night. She pads down the hall and quietly opens the door to their mother's room. She is still sound asleep, and no doubt did not see Prim off to school. Katniss rolls her eyes; although, this is nothing out of the ordinary. The rare time her mom isn't at the hospital, she's sleeping.

Katniss realizes and appreciates how hard her mother works to provide for her and Prim, but ever since their father died she doesn't make any attempt to spend time with either of her daughters when she does have time off. This is something Katniss can't help but resent her for. Not for her sake; she's old enough now to take care of herself, and she's always been self sufficient, but Prim is only thirteen. She lost her father when she was much too young and is now being essentially abandoned by her mother.

She and her mother had never really got on particularly well, and if it weren't for the fact that Prim needed her, Katniss would have moved out years ago.

Katniss makes herself a cup of coffee and sits down to read the paper. She has a few hours to relax before she has to head to her second job. When she opens up the paper she is assailed, yet again, by the picture of her and Peeta outside of the richie rich club that she works at. The picture is accompanied by an article about Peeta and his new movie, and his 'mystery woman' (luckily her face is partially obstructed from view). By all appearances it seems like they are locked in some sort of lover's embrace, not just a waitress helping a drunken patron to his car. Katniss quickly turns the page, as if that will make the offending picture disappear.

The article is an unwelcome reminder that she has yet to talk to Prim since the picture popped up on every gossip magazine and website conceivable to man. Between Katniss' jobs and Prim being at school they haven't run into each other. She had tried to get a feel from her mom about what kind of mood Prim seemed to be in the last few days, but unsurprisingly, she was no help.

She hopes that Prim gets home for school before she has to leave for work. She really wants to explain that the picture is not at all what it looks like. Prim has to know that Katniss would never go after a guy she likes, even if that guy is almost ten years older than Prim.

For the next few hours Katniss straightens up the house, because if she didn't it would never get done. She shudders at the thought of what kind of shape the house would be in if she left the cleaning duties to her mother.

Katniss is in her room getting ready for work when she hears Prim arriving home from school. She feels inordinately nervous, and hopes Prim is not too angry with her.

She walks into the kitchen where Prim is fixing herself a snack. She turns around upon hearing Katniss come on.

"Hey, Kat." There doesn't appear to be a trace of anger in her voice, although it is devoid of its usual cheerfulness.

"Hey, how was school?"

Prim shrugs. "It was okay,"

Katniss decides to just dive right in.

"Listen, Prim, I wanted to talk to you about that picture of me and Peeta. I wasn't what it looked like at all. He was just drunk and I was helping him to his car and he fell. I know you like him and I would never go after him. You know that, right?"

Prim has had an unreadable expression on her face the whole time Katniss had been talking. All of a sudden she bursts out laughing.

"Katniss, I don't like him." Katniss furrows her brow in confusion. "I mean I _like_ him, he's really nice, but I know he's way too old for me. It's just a little celebrity crush. You're more than welcome to hug him outside any club you please." she says with a giggle. Katniss just scoffs at the idea. "Actually, I kind of like someone at school."

Prim blushes at the confession.

"Really?" Katniss asks. Prim has given no hints about liking anyone. "Who?"

Prim's blush deepens. "Promise you won't tell him?"

"Of course not. How would I anyways?"

"Because it's Rory,"

Katniss' eyes widen in surprise; that she was definitely not expecting.

"Well, you should tell him. I think he likes you, too." Katniss says with a playful nudge to Prim's shoulder. She has always suspected this, but she never thought that Prim would return Rory's interest. Perhaps Prim is just better at hiding her feelings than Katniss gives her credit for.

Prims frowns.

"I don't think so,"

Prim relays the story of Rory lying to the girls in her class about driving her home to the airport, and how he has been ignoring her for the last few days as if he's angry with her. Katniss wishes she could be more helpful, but she's not really one for doling out romantic advice. When girls her age were discovering boys and makeup, Katniss was too busy reading or playing sports to care. Not much has changed since then on that front.

Katniss glances over at the clock and realizes that she had better get going to work. She bids Prim goodbye, with promises to help her with her homework when she gets home.

Katniss arrives at her job at the mall just in the nick of time, having broke a few speed limits on the drive in.

"You're late," Cinna says, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"Am not, I'm right on time." she says, pointing to the clock above the register.

He squints at the clock for a moment.

"Hmm, I guess you're right. I suppose I won't have to dock your pay, then." he jokes.

Katniss snorts. "I see you haven't let getting promoted to supervisor go to your head."

"I am as humble as ever." he proclaims with a grin. "Don't worry, I won't forget the little people as I ascend the corporate ladder."

"Climbing up the corporate ladder of La Chez, now there's something to aspire to." Katniss intones sarcastically.

"Hey, don't disparage my dreams. By the way, speaking of dreams come true, I saw you on the cover of US with Peeta Mellark." Cinna raises his eyebrows suggestively.

Katniss rolls her eyes.

"When, in the entire time that I've known you, have I ever given the slightest inclination that being on the cover of a tabloid would be a dream come true?"

Cinna raises his hands in surrender.

"Easy, I was just kidding. You two looked pretty cozy, though."

"Please," she scoffs. "Some way too rich for his own good, hollywood poser? That's the last thing I need in my life."

"Whoa, harsh," Cinna says, raising an eyebrow.

Okay, maybe that is a little harsh.

"Whatever," she mutters instead, not wanting to admit aloud that he's right. "It wasn't what it looked like, anyways. I was just helping him to his car, since he was wasted."

Cinna only raises his eyebrows in response, giving her a look that says he doesn't believe a word she's saying. Katniss huffs in annoyance and pushes thoughts of Peeta Mellark from her mind, focusing her energy on restocking the shelves with ridiculouslyoverpriced apparel.

* * *

**Peeta's POV:**

Due to his revelation the prior day, Peeta is nervous for the upcoming dinner. Which is stupid, really. His entire career is based on presenting oneself, and Peeta is pretty good at it, if he does say so himself. One girl should not be causing these feelings of unease within him. But there it is.

Maybe it's the fact that she had such an immediate and intense dislike of him. Peeta is used to being generally liked. He treats people with kindness and respect and they usually respond in kind. Regardless, there's just something about her fire that draws him in.

Peeta is determined to at least reach a level of comity tonight, if nothing else. He is keeping his expectations low for now.

In an attempt to distract himself from his anxiety about the impending dinner, Peeta goes out to lunch with his parents, wherein his mother encourages him to get a _real_ job (Peeta knows she will truly never be satisfied, no matter what level of success he reaches) and his father tries to keep the peace without stepping on anyone's toes. He tries to ignore his mother's disparaging comments, but it's difficult. Would it kill her to at least_ pretend _to be proud of his accomplishments? He really doesn't think that's such an unreasonable desire.

When Peeta is approached by a fan asking for an autograph, his mother makes no secret of her irritation. Peeta, in turn, feels the need to be especially friendly, to compensate for his mother's rudeness.

"Can't we get a moments peace?" his mother says, while the girl is still clearly in earshot.

"Mom, she only wanted an autograph, it's not a big deal."

She rolls her eyes and tilts her chin haughtily. "I, for one, don't know how you put up with that day in and day out."

Peeta shrugs.

"I wouldn't be where I am without my fans. The least I can do is give them a few minutes of my time." Peeta has a feeling that no matter how he tries to explain this, friendliness to strangers will always be a foreign concept to her.

When they finally leave the restaurant Peeta wonders why he had wanted to have lunch with his mother in the first place. He was crazy to think that perhaps she had changed. She is the same cold, emotionally distant person she's always been. As they're walking to the car Peeta's father falls in beside him, a few steps behind his mother.

"Don't be too mad at your mom, she's been very stressed as of late with the new openings of the bakery."

Peeta doesn't reply; there is no reply. Just like his mother, his father will never change. He will always defend his wife, even when she doesn't deserve it. Peeta has to admire his loyalty if nothing else, although he can't help but wish that just once, his father would take his side.

Sometimes Peeta wonders if his mother had been different when she was younger, more agreeable. It sounds terrible, but he can't imagine what his easy going, soft spoken father would see in her. He recalls his father telling him a story about a girl he dated briefly in high school, who broke up with him for a college boy. By the look in his eyes and the dreamy quality his voice had taken on, Peeta could practically hear the word his father wasn't saying, the words he would never say; that this girl that broke his heart when he was seventeen was 'the one that got away'.

It's sad for Peeta to think that maybe his dad had settled for his mom. Even if she isn't the most maternal, loving person, she doesn't deserve that. Neither of them do.

Peeta shakes his head, as if to dislodge these somber thoughts from his head.

Discouraged by Peeta's lack of response, his father is now back beside his mother, hand in hand, and Peeta watches their interaction with a renewed interest.

* * *

Peeta's heart thuds in his chest as he stands on the doorstep of the Everdeen household, a pie in hand. He can't even remember the last time he was this nervous. It's a little embarrassing.

A few moments later the door swings open to reveal a thoroughly surprised Katniss Everdeen. She quickly rearranges her expression to one of detached disinterest. She wordlessly gestures for him to come in. At least she's not turning him away. That's a start, right?

He holds out the pie.

"I brought this," he says more to break the silence than anything else.

"I see that," she says dryly. He can't tell if she's joking with him or at his expense.

They're still standing by the doorway, and Peeta begins to feel uncomfortable. What is it about this girl that completely shakes his confidence?

This time, however, Katniss breaks the silence.

"I didn't think you were going to come."

"I said I was going to." He smiles, trying to insert a little levity into the situation.

"Katniss, who's at the door?" a voice he recognizes as Prim's calls from further within the house. She rounds the corner and her eyes widen just as Katniss' had. At the moment the familiarity between the two sisters is striking. Peeta can't help but laugh.

"Hey, Prim,"

"You're here," she says, her eyes still resembling saucers, "in my house!"

Now, why can't Katniss be as excited to see him as her sister?

"As promised,"

"Ooh, you brought pie. Let's put it on the table." Prim links her arm around his and leads him towards the kitchen.

As he and Prim walk into the kitchen he immediately sees a scattered assortment of pots, pans, bowls, and other cooking utensils. The mouthwatering aroma is overwhelming.

"Wow, this looks like quite a spread for a couple of girls that weren't expecting company." Peeta quips.

"Who says we don't feast like this every Saturday?" Katniss asks as she enters the kitchen.

Her tone is lighter than he has come to expect, and he chooses to belief that she is joking _with_ him.

"Well, either way, it looks very impressive, and it smells delicious. Can I help?"

"Sure!" Prim answers excitedly. She hands him a pink apron, and he raises his eyebrows. Prim shrugs; a pink tinge staining her cheeks. "That's all we have. I didn't want your nice shirt to get dirty."

Peeta slips the apron over his head and ties it up.

"Luckily, pink is my favorite color." He is sure he looks completely ridiculous in the hot pink apron, but the way Prim's face lights up makes it worth it.

He looks over at Katniss and she is staring at him, as if trying to figure something out.

"What? Real men wear pink, you know."

Prim giggles, Katniss merely looks away without a word, but if he's not mistaken he saw the corners of her mouth turning up before she turned away. It's borderline pathetic how excited he is to have _almost_ made her smile.

For the next half hour Peeta helps Prim and Katniss put the finishing touches on dinner. Stirring when he is told to stir, adding salt when he is told to add salt. Katniss doesn't say much, he and Prim hold the majority of the conversation, but she doesn't seem to be bothered by his presence. Dare he say that she is enjoying the rapport he has developed with Prim?

"So, where is your mom?" Peeta asks out of curiosity. He has yet to see her since he has arrived.

Any progress he has made with Katniss seems to vanish. Prim's smile also disappears. He's not sure why this seemingly innocent question would cause such palpable tension, but he is determined to right his wrong.

"She got called into work." Katniss answers shortly.

Peeta helps the girls carry all the food over to the table. He tries for a compliment.

"This all looks amazing. I wish I could cook this well."

He can't tell if he has made headway.

"I thought you parents owned a bakery. Wouldn't they have taught you things like that?"

Peeta is quite surprised that Katniss knows this.

"Yeah, well, I'm pro at baking bread and icing cake, but beyond that I'm kind of clueless."

Peeta thanks Prim as she offers him the scalloped potatoes.

"How do you make your meals, then? Please don't tell me you have your own chef."

Peeta laughs; genuinely amused by the notion.

"Nope, not quite yet. I eat out a lot, or I make easy stuff."

"Katniss can teach you how to cook," Prim interjects. "She's really good,"

Peeta doesn't miss the thunderous look Katniss shoots Prim.

"Oh, I wouldn't put that burden on anyone." he jokes, giving her an out.

Dinner passes much as making dinner had, with Peeta and Prim doing most of the talking, while Katniss was content to listen. She did smile a few times, mostly at what Prim said, but he isn't complaining. He's just happy to see her smile.

Peeta clears the table, insisting that neither sister get up to help him.

"Prim, you should go to bed. You have to get up early for dance tomorrow."

"Katniss!" she complains loudly. Katniss just gives her a stern look and she complies. "Fine,"

She turns to Peeta.

"Bye, Peeta, thanks for coming over. It was really fun."

"No problem, Prim, I had fun, too. Thank you for the dinner."

She gives him a little wave and heads to her bedroom, her shoulders sagging slightly.

Katniss clears her throat and Peeta gets the feeling that this is his cue to leave, but he's not ready to give up quite yet.

"Can I help you with the dishes?"

To his surprise she agrees right away.

He begins to wash the dishes, then passes them to Katniss to rinse and dry.

"So, I never got the chance to thank you for helping me out the other night."

"You had the chance; you were just too wasted to take it." She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes are mischievous with a smile to match, so he knows she's only joking.

"Yeah, I guess I was. I don't usually get like that..." he starts.

She holds her hands up. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

There's silence for a beat as Peeta searches for something to say, but Katniss breaks the silence again.

"So, I'm still waiting for that thank you."

"Oh, right," he chuckles. "Thank you very much for your assistance. I am forever in your debt, Miss Everdeen. How was that?"

She rolls her eyes but lets out a low laugh. He smiles and silently congratulates himself for making her laugh.

"It could use some work, it was a little flowery."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They fall into silence, but it's comfortable and companionable. This is more progress than Peeta had hoped for. He decides to take a leap of faith.

"Do you work tonight?"

She eyes him warily. "No."

"I'm going to a party at my friend Finnick's. You should come with me." His heart pounds in his chest as he waits for her answer.

"We don't have to do the thing."

Peeta's eyebrows draw together in confusion. "What thing?"

"That thing where you pretend you like me, because you just have to be _that_guy."

"I'm not pretending..." Peeta says, a frown creasing the lines of his forehead.

"You don't like me; you just like the fact that I don't like you."

His frown deepens at her accusation.

"I know we haven't known each other that long, but I thought you would give me a little more credit than that. Maybe the problem is that you don't want to get to know me, because then you would have to admit that all of your preconceived notions about me are wrong, and maybe _just _maybe I'm actually a decent guy. Or maybe I'm just the idiot that's chasing a girl that's never going to give him the time of day." He finishes with the last dish and dries his hands. "I think I'd better go."

He walks to the door and she remains silent. He didn't really expect her to stop him, although he was holding out some asinine hope that she would.

Without sparing a glance behind him, Peeta walks out of the Everdeen household for the first and last time.

* * *

**AN: Uh oh...what did you guys think? Yay for being on track for 100 reviews by chapter 6. Thanks everyone :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Yayy, 100 reviews :) Even though I know the last 4 anonymous reviews were from the same person..it's still exciting :p**

**So, I was looking back at previous chapters and noticed that the first two chapters were in first person POV and then I switched to third person POV..ahah :$. So, I've fixed it, but if you notice a mistake like this (or any other) don't hesitate to point it out to me. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. I also don't own Twitter, just using it for my own amusement**

* * *

Peeta closes his eyes and basks in the warmth of the afternoon Newport sun. He tries to just revel in the peacefulness of the moment - after all, lying out by the pool without a care is exactly what he was wishing for last week - but he can't enjoy it.

Despite all efforts to the contrary, all he can think about is the disaster that was dinner at the Everdeen's. Sure, it had started out good enough, but he just couldn't look past the end of the evening. He wonders if maybe he had been too rude and too hasty in leaving, but then he recalls her harsh words: _you don't like me; you just like the fact that I don't like you_- and he doesn't regret how he handled it. He only wishes things had played out differently. It is moderately depressing that she shut him down before even giving him a chance.

He supposes he can look on the bright side; that she let him know exactly how she felt about him before he could let himself get too invested. Peeta likes to think of himself as quite the optimist, but even he has trouble rationalizing that as a silver lining. And knowing that she has no interest in him has, so far, done nothing to help quell his interest in her. He resigns himself to the fact that, until he can get over these feelings he has developed for Katniss Everdeen, he's just going to be one of those guys pining after an unattainable girl. Finnick will never let him hear the end of it.

Speak of the devil, Finnick interrupts his train of thought with a question on the very subject he was hoping to avoid.

"So, how was your hot date last night?"

Peeta doesn't even bother opening his eyes to answer Finnick's question.

"It wasn't a date and it wasn't hot."

"Dude, you passed up pre-gaming for a quasi non-date with a hot bartender and her little sister? It's like I don't even know you anymore." he says with mock betrayal.

"How exactly do you pre-game for a house party?" Peeta asks. He chooses to ignore the latter half of the sentence.

"You drink before everyone else gets there." Finnick says as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not as well versed in partying as you are, Finn."

Finnick grins, no doubt taking the reference to his obsessive partying as a compliment.

"Don't worry; few are."

It seems that Peeta has succeeded in throwing Finnick off the scent regarding his 'date'. He wasn't expecting it to be too difficult, though. Finnick has a notorious one track mind, especially when it comes to partying.

Finnick is a great guy, no doubt about it, but Peeta sometimes wonders if there will ever be a time that he won't be content to just skate by in life and live off of his trust fund. As far as Peeta knows, Finnick doesn't have any aspirations aside from having fun.

Peeta flips his phone over to check the time, ignoring the numerous texts from Johanna. He gets up and snaps his towel against Finnick's exposed back.

"I have to go."

Finnick looks up at Peeta and shades his eyes from the sun.

"Where could you possibly have to go on a day like this?"

"Some of us actually have a job, Finn."

"It's always about work with you, man. Alright, well, text me later."

Peeta pulls his shirt back on as he heads back through the house to the front door. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and slides into his car, ready to make the short trip back to LA.

Today is the photo shoot for the promo posters for The Hunger Games. Posing for long hours and hardly being able to move from one mark is not exactly Peeta's idea of fun, but it's a necessary evil. He figures that it might be kind of cool to see himself on a huge billboard, though. The hype for this movie is incredible, and Effie has said that these promo pictures were going to be plastered all over all of the major cities.

She had been constantly pestering him to eat certain foods that she said were better for his complexion. Not that he really paid attention to such things, but he thought that his complexion had always been pretty good, so he didn't see the point. Such was just typical Effie eccentricities.

Peeta arrives at the photo shoot and heads to his dressing room. He greets his fellow cast mates that play some of the more major characters, as he encounters them on his way, but he has yet to see Jerrica or Landon. He sees a clothing rack and pulls the outfit with his name on it off the hanger. It's the outfit that his character, and all the other tributes, wore in the arena.

Reluctantly, Peeta makes his way to hair and makeup. He always hates the time spent in that chair, having goop plastered on his face. The whole thing feels a little too effeminate and unnecessary to him.

The stylist for the shoot shrieks upon seeing him, and Peeta's eyes widen in alarm. What? Did he have a horn growing out of the side of his head or something?

"Your hair!"

Oh, shit. He rubs his newly blond hair self consciously. Every eye seems to now be on him and the scene this woman is creating.

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot about this shoot when I dyed it back." He sits in the chair assigned to him and lowers his voice, hoping the woman will follow suit, and that in turn everyone will quit staring.

The woman clicks her tongue in disapproval and starts mumbling to herself about possible fixes, while still staying on schedule. She ends up finding a wig that looks completely natural, and the 'crisis' is averted.

Once he is appropriately made up, Peeta heads to set. The photographer gives him his mark and he plants himself squarely on the little red dot. Hundreds of frames later, the photographer is pleased with the shots he has and Peeta gratefully relaxes his body from its rigid stance.

Jerrica appears on set in a costume much similar to his own. She waves at him as a stylist puts the finishing touches on her hair.

Peeta heads back to his dressing room to wait until his group shoot with Jerrica. He settles onto the couch and turns on the tv, channel surfing for a bit. Getting bored, he pulls out his phone and answers some texts, then logs into Twitter. He sifts through the tweets directed at him and replies to a few fans.

Just when he is about to log out, a username catches his eye: kEverdeen412. He expands the message and is shocked by what he sees.

_' pmellark I feel like such a stalker...but please call me: 323-555-2639.'_

He just stares at the screen for a moment, before he taps on her username. She only has the one tweet, the one sent to him. Is it possible that she created a twitter account just to contact him? For some reason this strikes a little fear in him. Peeta can't think of a reason why Katniss would want him to call her, besides to tell him off again. He's not exactly looking forward to that, and he briefly contemplates not calling, but the desire to talk to her again wins out, and he decides he may as well get the yelling over with while he has some time to kill.

He taps on the number and brings his phone to his ear. The phone rings and rings. Just as he's about to hang up, she answers breathlessly,

"Hello?"

"Hey, Katniss? It's Peeta,"

"Oh, hi." She sounds surprised to hear from him.

"You asked me to call?" he prods.

"Yes, well, I just wanted to apologize for what I said last night. It was uncalled for." Katniss gets straight to the point; she's not one to mince words.

Peeta's eyebrows shoot up. That is the very last thing he was expecting her to say.

"It's okay," he says, and he means it; Peeta is not one to hold grudges. "I'm sorry about what I said, too."

"No, you were right; I judged you before I even took the time to get to know you, and that was unfair of me. But if you're still game, I'd like to change that."

_If he's still game..._ He's so _game _it's ridiculous. Right now, Finnick would probably advise Peeta to act cool and aloof, but Peeta never really saw the sense in playing games when it came to relationships and dating.

"I would love that."

They agree upon dinner tonight and Peeta asks when he should pick her up.

"You don't have to, I have a car." She sounds a little defensive.

"I know, I just like to think that chivalry isn't dead."

"Okay," she says sounding amused, "how about 8?"

* * *

8 o'clock sharp finds Peeta back on the doorstep of the Everdeen's. Somewhere that, just last night, he thought he would never be again.

When Katniss opens the door, the first thing that Peeta notices is that her hair is down; he has only seen her hair in a braid. The way her hair frames her face softens her features.

"I like you hair down." is the first brilliant thing that he says to her. He groans inwardly.

"Thanks," she says, and there's that amused tone again.

"So, where would you like to go?" Peeta asks as he heads into town. He figures it would be best to do this on her turf, let her set the pace.

"There's this really good Italian restaurant on 21st. Is that cool with you?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect."

Peeta pulls into the parking lot that Katniss directed him to. He holds the door open for her and she steps inside. A flash pops behind him and he doesn't break his stride, but Katniss seems to be frozen in the entry way.

"Does that happen a lot?" She gestures behind them.

There's really no good way to play this without lying outright.

"It happens enough that I'm used to it, but it's not like I can't leave the house for fear of being overrun by paparazzi." he jokes.

She doesn't crack a smile, though. She appears to be contemplating something as the waitress takes them to their table.

"I don't really have an interest in being anyone's 'mystery woman'." she says, referencing the article that the local paper ran a few days back.

Peeta frowns.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"It's not your fault, but I suppose it comes with the territory, right?"

He shrugs sheepishly, feeling like he should apologize for his fame.

"Kind of,"

"I don't know how I feel about that." she states simply.

Damn it. Well, at least she's honest about it.

Peeta attempts to steer the conversation away from depressing topics such as potential deal breakers.

"So, what made you change your mind about me?" he wonders.

"Prim; she overheard our conversation and made sure I knew how undeservingly rude I had been to you, and that I should apologize and give you a chance."

Peeta can't wipe the triumphant grin off his face. "She sounds like a smart kid."

She glares at him, but there's no real weight behind it. "She is,"

Katniss asks him about his family and Peeta tells her about the family business and how he grew up in the bakery. He tells her how his father is his role model, a man he aspires to be. He tries to say as little about his mother as possible, and what he does say he tries to spin in a positive light. He confides in her how one of his older brothers, Chase, moved at the age of seventeen, determined not to follow in his parent's footsteps in the bakery, and how he nearly broke their father's heart in the process.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says after a while, realizing that he has been monopolizing the conversation. "I've just been going on and on about myself. Why don't you tell me about you?"

Katniss gives him an abbreviated version of her life story: her mother is a nurse who works crazy hours, she loves her sister more than anyone else in the world, and she is studying for her undergraduate in law at UCLA. She doesn't mention her father and Peeta surmises that he shouldn't ask. He gets the feeling that Katniss is someone that doesn't particularly like talking about herself, which is the polar opposite of some of the narcissistic people he has met in Hollywood.

Once they finish their wine and Katniss declines desert, insisting she can't eat another bite, Peeta pays the check. As the waitress walks away with the now paid bill, Katniss noticeably bristles.

"You didn't have to do that." she says stiffly as they leave the restaurant.

"Pay?" he asks in confusion. The thought of going dutch hadn't even entered his mind. "Did that offend you? I thought I warned you that I'm still operating under the assumption that chivalry _isn't _dead." he chuckles.

She sighs.

"I'm sorry, it's just this thing I have. I don't accept..." Her lips begin to form around a certain word, but she seems to change her mind at the last second. "...gifts well."

"Oh, alright." He's a little confused and he doesn't want a simple misunderstanding to ruin a good evening.

When they arrive back at Katniss' house, Peeta walks her up to the door.

"Well, I'm glad I got over my preconceived notions," she says, poking fun at Peeta. He's not entirely sure what she means, though. Does she want to see him again? Is she just happy to know that her sister wasn't driven home by a nutcase? Does she see potential for them? God, he feels like a teenage girl the way he's overanalyzing her words.

"Thank you for dinner."

As Peeta is contemplating his next move, Katniss make the decision for him. She leans in brings her lips to his. It's a closed mouth kiss that only lasts for a few seconds, but that doesn't stop Peeta from internally jumping for joy; because Katniss made the first move. It proves that their connection isn't just one sided.

"Goodnight, Peeta,"


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: So this chapter is pretty Katniss/Gale centric, but it has some necessary back story. Also, I like Gale :)  
**

* * *

**Gale's POV:**

_Gale drums his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio. He hums under his breath; he won't subject his passengers to his god-awful singing voice. Apparently they have no such qualms as his dad and Mr. Everdeen start singing along loudly and gratingly off-key. Mr. Everdeen usually sings in an amazing falsetto, but his drunken state has clearly had an impact on his natural ability._

_"Would you two old men shut up?" Gale shouts over the racket._

_His comment only causes them to sing louder. Gale shakes his head at their antics, caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance. He hears a pop and hiss behind him and the singing has miraculously ended, but they better not be doing what he thinks they're doing. He turns his head away from the road to look into the backseat and sure enough his father and Mr. Everdeen each have a beer in hand._

_Unbelievable._

_The very last thing he needs is to be pulled over by the cops, where they will undoubtedly discover that Gale had a single beer as his dad, Mr. Everdeen, __and their fellow construction workers pounded them back. Seeing as he only had the one beer hours earlier, he's pretty sure his BAC will be under the legal limit of 0.8 %, but he certainly doesn't anticipate finding out._

_He's about to yell at them to put them back in the cooler when a blinding light catches the corner of his eye. He whips his head back around, but it's too late._

_The last thing he hears is his father shouting his name in horror._

Gale wakes up in a cold sweat, his whole body shaking. He fights for breath as he tries in vain to hold himself together. He tumbles out of bed and barely makes it down the hall to the bathroom before he drops to his knees and empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He steps back and lies down on the bathroom floor, hoping the coolness of the tile against his cheek will help clear his head.

No matter how many times he has had to relive that night in his dreams over the last year, it never fails to have this debilitating effect on him. It is something akin to a panic attack, but Gale only thinks of it as a weakness that he cannot afford. He sucks in a deep breath, knowing he will have to get up soon; he has to see the kids off to school before he has to get himself ready for work.

A sharp knock at the door causes Gale to flinch and again he curses his weakness.

"Gale, Vicky won't let me in his room!" Posy complains in a whining voice that only a four-year-old could pull off.

Through the bathroom door Gale can hear Vick shouting down the hall to _**stop**__ calling him Vicky. _On another day this situation might have made Gale laugh, but this isn't just any day, and right now Gale is just trying to summon the will power to lift himself from the floor.

"Ow! Vicky, that hurt!" Posy shrieks. And that's all it takes. Gale is up and out that bathroom door faster than a bat out of hell.

To his credit, Vick looks ashamed, but Gale knows this is more due to thunderous look on his eldest brother's face than out of remorse for hurting his sister.

"How many times do I have to tell you; you _c__an't _hit her! Or anyone for that matter." Gale says in the voice he has adopted for scolding his brothers and sister.

"But she won't stop -"

Gale holds up a hand to quiet him. "I don't care what she did. You're older than her and bigger than her; you ought to know better. Vick, you have to do Posy's chores for the day when you get home from school."

"Aww, Gale, come on."

He ignores his brother's complaints and turns his attention to Posy, who is still rubbing her arm. Vick takes off down the hall, muttering mutinously under his breath.

"And Posy, please stop calling him Vicky; you know he doesn't like it."

Her bottom lips trembles, but she nods her head in agreement. He kneels down so they are face to face.

"Are you okay, Pose?"

She nods her head again, though her lips are still trembling, trying to hold back the tears. But he's proud of her for not crying.

_A fucking four-year-old is stronger than you, _a voice in his head taunts cruelly.

"Kiss it better, papa."

Gale has to turn away for a second, but he quickly gathers himself and kisses the spot on Posy's arm.

Every once in a while Posy will forget herself and call him papa, and every time she does, Gale's heart breaks a little bit more.

He sends Posy back to her room with instructions to get ready for school.

Gale heads back into the bathroom to splash some water on his face and brush his teeth before going to check on his mom. He knocks softly on the door and hears a low 'come in'.

Sondra, his mother's nurse, is drawing the curtains back to allow the sunlight to filter into the room. She does this every morning around this time to urge Gale's mother to wake up unprompted by words. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

"How is she?" he asks Sondra.

"She tried to leave again last night, insisting she had to get to work."

Gale nods somberly; no improvement, but at least no worse than he has come to expect.

"Javier, where have you been?" This isn't the first time his mom has mistaken him for his father. Her misconceptions sting no less than Posy's slip ups. "You didn't come home last night! You're carrying on with that Alajandra woman, aren't you? Don't think I don't see the way you look at her!"

Sondra has told him that when his mother is having one of her paranoid delusions, it's best for him to just play along and do what he can to placate her.

"No, of course not. I had to stay late at work. I love _you_, Arria; only you."

A faint, peaceful smile graces his mother's lips; this seems to have done the trick. Behind her, Sondra gives Gale a grim smile.

"Arria, would you like to start your morning prayer?"

When Gale had initially started doing research on Alzheimer's, he read that keeping up routines is a comfort to the person, and Sondra always makes sure his mother follows her routines down to the T. Gale wonders, not for the first time, what he would do without Sondra.

But Gale has to leave the room for this part. He can't stand to see his quickly disappearing mother still so devoted to an entity that does not exist. Because surely there is no God that would allow such a devastating disease as Early Onset Alzheimer's. Surely there is no God that would rob three young children of both of their parents in the space of just one year.

Surely there is no God.

* * *

Gale tries to push thoughts of his dream to the back of his head and focus on his work, but it is eating away at the edges of his consciousness, refusing to be forgotten or swept under the rug. This doesn't surprise him, though. Such is just par for the course with his 'night terrors', as Dr. Wilder liked to call them.

The expectation doesn't do anything to dull the anger, though. This isn't something he wants to think about right now. Aside from it being dangerous to be distracted on the job - some men have lost fingers, hands, even their lives by letting their mind wander while on the production line - he is occasionally prone to emotional displays (okay, crying) after his night terrors, and he can't think of anything more humiliating than breaking down at work.

Gale's co-workers know nothing of his life; he rarely talks to anyone unless it is work related. After numerous declined invitations they stopped inviting him out for after work beers, and eventually stopped talking to him altogether.

It's early, but Gale asks the foreman if he can take his lunch. The foreman narrows his eyes and tells him to make it quick. Gale isn't sure how you make a mandatory thirty minute lunch break quick, but he just nods in assent, grateful for the escape, no matter how brief.

He grabs his lunch out of the fridge and sits in the far corner of the lunch room, though there are only a couple other people in the room.

He bites into his sandwich and lets the thoughts come; best to get it over with while he is essentially alone and not in the presence of heavy machinery. And come they do, flooding his mind like a river breaking down a dam.

At first it is scrambled and messy, each thought attacking his mind quickly and ferociously - the semi blowing through the red light and slamming into the passenger side of his instantly totaled F-150; waking up in a hospital bed and asking where he was, where his father was, where Mr. Everdeen was, only to be told with frightening certainty that they had not survived the crash; the look in Katniss' eyes when she first came to visit him.

Eventually they even out and he is left with just a dull ache. As the dust settles, his thoughts stay on Katniss.

Gale could tell from the moment she stepped into that hospital room that nothing was ever going to be the same between them. But he didn't know at the time just how badly things were going to fall apart.

At first things were tense; they fought all the time about the most petty things and wouldn't speak for days. It wasn't uncommon for them to butt heads; they were both stubborn and fierce and wildly opinionated. But this time it was different**. **It was heavier somehow; it carried the weight of the words they weren't saying. At a time when they should have been clinging to each other for support more than ever, they were constantly pushing each other away. Katniss more so than Gale.

One night they were having perhaps their first honest conversation about that night that had changed both of their lives and the lives of their families forever. It was like an enormous weight had been lifted off ofGale's shoulders as he finally let out all the anger, all the guilt, all the sorrow that he had been holding back.

"I just keep replaying it over and over again in my mind, thinking of all the different ways I could have prevented it."

Katniss shook her head.

"You couldn't have prevented it." Her words weren't so much comforting as they were a statement of cold, hard fact.

His hands balled into fists.

"Maybe if I had been paying attention to the road instead of worrying about getting a DUI, I could have swerved out of the way."

"A DUI?" Katniss' voice was low and dangerous. "What do you mean a DUI?"

He hadn't meant to let those words slip. Katniss would never forgive him for this.

"I had a beer at the site." Katniss jumped up and she was more furious than he had ever seen her, and Gale was pretty good at working up Katniss Everdeen's temper, a temper that was always brewing just below the surface. Immediately he was in defensive mode, trying to salvage the situation; maybe trying to salvage their relationship. "But it was hours earlier! And you know one beer wouldn't have affected me!"

"How could you have kept this from me?"

"I didn't think it was important. I mean that_ asshole _ran the red light, but the more I think about it, the more I think that maybe..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Maybe it was my fault after all."

He wasn't expecting much - or any - comfort from Katniss at the moment, but the next words out of her mouth shocked him to his core.

"You know what? Maybe it was."

They didn't talk for a week; Katniss' last words hung heavy between them. She wouldn't answer his calls, and whenever he stopped by, Prim would say she was at work.

One night as he dialed her number and absently held the phone to his ear, more out of habit than out of expectation that she would actually pick up, the line connected.

"What do you want?" she said, her voice sharp and impatient.

"Katniss, please, just talk to me." He didn't care that he was begging, something he told himself he would _never _do under any circumstances, relationship or not.

"I have nothing to say to you."

How could she have nothing to say when Gale could think of a hundred things just off the top off his head?

"Gale, I can't do this anymore, any of this. Please don't call me anymore, and stop bothering my sister. She doesn't need to see the man that killed her father on her doorstep every day."

As the line went dead, a piece of Gale died along with it.

* * *

**Katniss' POV:**

"Katniss, can you drive me to the mall?"

Katniss is in her room, unwinding from a long day at work, and the last thing she wants to do is drive 20 minutes there and back to the mall** - **but she can't resist the puppy dog look in her sister's eyes.

"Sure," Katniss says, pretending like she wasn't just seconds away from falling asleep. She knows that Prim sometimes feels guilty about everything that Katniss does for her, and that's more weight than a thirteen-year-old needs to bear.

"Are you meeting your friends?" Katniss asks as she grabs her keys.

"Well, just one friend." Prim clarifies, and is it Katniss' imagination or do Prim's cheeks blush at this admission?

"Prim..." Katniss says, half warning, half questioning.

"Oh, relax, Kat. It's just Rory."

Katniss' eyebrows raise, a quizzical look on her face.

"Didn't he humiliate you in front of all your friends just last week?"

Prim blushes again.

"Yeah, but he apologized, " she says, as if it's simple as that. And to Prim, it is. To her way of thinking, if someone wrongs you and they apologize, you put it behind you. No questions asked.

Normally, Katniss would call this particular way of thinking a little naïve, but now she wonders if perhaps Prim is more mature than she is. The thought it a little unsettling, because it forces Katniss to rethink things she would rather not rethink, things she would rather not think about at all.

So she pushes the unwanted thoughts to the back of her mind, something she has become quite adept at, and switches gears to a safer and more neutral topic: wondering when exactly her baby sister had grown up so fast. What seems like just yesterday, she was crying on the steps of the school on her first day of kindergarten, and now she is teaching her twenty-one year old sister life lessons.

Last week for example, she had told Katniss politely and diplomatically, but in no uncertain terms, that she had been completely out of line in calling Peeta out the previous night. She had urged Katniss to apologize and take the time to get to know him.

"He could make you happy, Katniss. You deserve to be happy," she had said in a way that suggested she was wise beyond her years.

Never one to disappoint her little sister, Katniss had done just as Prim had advised, and she had to admit - if somewhat grudgingly - that she had been wrong about Peeta. Despite herself, she found that she actually longed to know more about him.

Which is how she found herself agreeing to a second date.

* * *

Peeta picks her up that night in his outlandishly expensive car that she wants to hate on principle, but surprisingly finds herself liking. Which, amusingly enough, seems to be an analogy for her relationship with Peeta. She also wants to hate the fact that he insists upon picking her up, something she would ordinarily write off as chauvinistic and outdated, but he somehow turns it into a charming endearment.

"Hey, Katniss." He smiles easily, genuinely pleased to see her. His perpetually cheerful disposition, that Katniss had originally assumed - based on experience - was an act, is apparently just a product of his optimistic outlook on life.

His constant positive attitude is somewhat of an enigma to Katniss, but she is determined not to read too much into it and just take Peeta at face value.

As they walk into the banquet hall where the annual Taste of Newport festival is held, Katniss nearly turns on her heel and walks right back out the door.

Peeta lays a hand on her tensed shoulders, noticing her distress. He leans in and asks quietly,

"What's wrong?"

Before she can respond, the very last person Katniss wants to see is upon them. Gale looks up from the platter of dirty dishes he's carrying and his eyes widen in surprise and another emotion that Katniss can't place. In no time at all, however, his expression smoothes out to the emotionless mask he has taken to wearing whenever he is around her.

"Katniss," he says, his voice similarly void of emotion and impossible to read. For someone who can usually read people with ease, it is more than a little disconcerting for her not to know what he is thinking.

"Hi,"

There's awkward, stifling silence for a minute. Peeta clears his throat, probably waiting for an introduction, but Katniss doesn't feel bound to such niceties when it comes to Gale. For his part, Gale is steadfastly ignoring Peeta's presence.

"How's your mom?" she asks out of genuine concern. She and Gale may no longer be dating - or even friends for that matter - but she still can't will away that piece of her heart that will always belong to him. She knows this because she's tried. At the end of the day Gale Hawthorne will always be her first love and first best friend - no matter what unforgivable crimes he has committed.

Gale rubs the back of his neck and doesn't fully meet her eyes. His gray eyes skirt around her face, as if he is trying to memorize every detail.

"Not very good. She's almost to the point where she needs round-the-clock care and I won't be able to afford having Sondra at the house that often." He gives Peeta a side long glance, but Katniss can tell that he's not embarrassed to have revealed so much about himself to a perfect stranger. Gale has never apologized for who he is or what he has.

Katniss feels a sharp tug at her heartstrings. She's always had to work hard for what she gets, but she can't imagine the strength it takes Gale to be the sole provider to a family of five on top of dealing with his mother's disease. It's not fair for him to have that weight on his shoulders, not when he's just supposed to be starting his own life.

A small, ugly voice in the back of her head insists that he is getting what he deserves. She banishes the thought immediately, hating herself for it and hating Gale for turning her into someone who is glad - if only for the briefest second - for someone else's anguish.

"I'm sorry, Gale. I wish there was something I could do to help-"

"You can't," he says sharply. "Nobody can."

This isn't a response that surprises her, nor one that she blames him for, but his harsh words still cause a faint ripple of pain in her chest. When is she going to stop being so emotionally unstable and vulnerable around him? She doesn't know the answer to that, which is another way she justifies to herself cutting him out of her life.

"Well, maybe I could," Peeta says, speaking up for the first time.

Gale turns his hostile glare on Katniss' date, apparently realizing he can longer ignore him once Peeta has directly addressed him.

Gale is tightly coiled, like a cobra ready to strike. Peeta doesn't even appear to notice that he has upset Gale; he's still smiling politely, if somewhat awkwardly, in the wake of Gale's silence. But Katniss has known Gale for most of her life, so maybe these nuances aren't as easy to pick up as she thinks they are.

"I don't need your charity, " Gale bites out harshly. Katniss knows it took all of his restraint not to tack a curse word in there somewhere, and she is sure he held himself back on her account. Gale has always been stubborn and proud to a fault. Although, Katniss supposes she is not really one to talk; she and Gale have always been freakishly alike.

Peeta seems momentarily taken aback as his smile fades, but not a minute passes before a neutral expression is back on his handsome face. (Yeah, she said it.)

"I'm sorry, that was stupid. It's just that I have all this money and it feels wrong because I don't need all of it, but you're right; that was out of line. I'm very sorry to have offended you.

"Yeah, I get it," Gale snaps. "You have more money than you know what to do with. Some of us weren't so lucky as to be born into a _privileged_ family and actually have to _work_ for what we get."

Peeta's jaw clenches almost imperceptibly, but Katniss has always been uncommonly observant.

"I'm sorry again, and I wish you and your family the best." He turns to Katniss and rests a hand on her arm. "I'll go get us a table."

Peeta walks away, giving Katniss the space to finish her conversation with Gale.

"He's a piece of fucking work, " Gale comments as soon as Peeta is gone. And there it is. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

Katniss' only response is a slight lift of her eyebrows as Gale seems to realize what he has said.

"I should go." She gestures in the direction Peeta had taken off. "I wish you and your family the best, " she says, copying Peeta's words. But as his words had sounded sincere and heartfelt, hers just sound stilted and rehearsed.

She hurries away before she can further make a fool out of herself. She finds Peeta waiting for her at a candelit table in a secluded corner. She has to admit, it looks pretty romantic.

She sits down opposite Peeta and hopes he doesn't mention the awkward encounter, but she can't blame him for wondering what the hell just went on.

"So, I'm guessing that was an ex we just ran into?" he asks lightly, but there is an edge of curiosity.

"I guess you could say that," she relents. "But I would really rather not talk about it."

"Of course," he says, completely nonplussed.

Katniss adds 'understanding' to the ever growing list of things she might be beginning to sort of like about Peeta Mellark.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: So, last chapter there were more favourites than reviews... What, no love for Gale? lol. Sorry this chapter took a little longer, but it is the longest chapter or one shot I've ever written, so that should make up for it. I've never had to worry about a chapter going too long before, usually it's the other way around. T'was weirdd lol. What can I say? Katniss and Peeta had a lot to say...haha. **

* * *

**Katniss' POV:**

Katniss is putting the groceries away when she hears it: a quiet, choked sound coming from upstairs. She drops the box of crackers she is currently holding and makes her way up the staircase. She knocks softly on the door to Prim's bedroom.

There's silence for a moment and Katniss envisions Prim collecting herself behind the paneled door.

"Come in."

Katniss enters the room to see Prim sitting on her bed with her knees hiked up to her chest. Katniss climbs on the bed next to her and puts a comforting arm around Prim's shoulder.

"What's wrong, little duck?"

"I'm fine," she says, but the waver in her voice gives her away.

Silence descends upon them again. Katniss mulls over her next words.

"Is it Rory?" she ventures.

"No."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" She pats Prim's unruly hair down, willing the strands to stay in the braid.

Katniss wonders if perhaps Prim didn't hear her. She is about to repeat her question when Prim whispers, "I miss daddy."

Katniss feels a tight clench in her chest, a feeling she attributes to someone she loves being in pain, a feeling she has become all too familiar with.

"I know, Rose. So do I." The shortened form of Prim's name slips out of her mouth unbidden. Their father was the only one to call her that on a regular basis. Katniss worries at Prim's reaction to the nickname after so long.

Prim smiles and leans into Katniss. "Nobody calls me that anymore."

Katniss wraps her other arm around Prim and hugs her close. They sit like this for a while, in companionable silence, comforting each other over a loss that no child should ever have to endure. Prim is the one to break the silence.

"Do you miss Gale?" she asks quietly, timidly.

"Prim -"

"I know you don't like to talk about him, but do you ever wish you could go back? Change things?"

"Everyday." The answer is vague and not really in response to what Prim was asking, but she leaves it at that, because, really, that's all she can bear.

A knock at the door saves her from further questioning. Katniss hugs Prim and kisses the top of her head before heading downstairs. She swings the door open and is surprised to see her uncle standing on her doorstep.

"Haymitch?"

She opens the door a bit wider and he steps inside, favoring his injured leg; the leg that was both his damnation and his salvation. He can't work anymore because of it - he lives solely on disability checks. Katniss knows Haymitch well enough to know that sitting at home, being inactive, drives him out of his mind. It is only one of the contributing factors to his downward spiral, though.

The gunshot wound to his upper right thigh is also what sent him home from the war. The scars Haymitch bears from his two-year long deployment run deep, and not all are visible.

"How you kids been?" Haymitch asks. The way he stumbles over an easy sentence is always his tell.

"We've been." Katniss folds her arms across her chest and doesn't move to invite her uncle in further. She and Haymitch have an odd relationship, one that she often doesn't understand herself. Some days she's not sure whether to pity him or be angry at him for not fighting harder. Today she falls firmly in the latter category.

Prim appears in the foyer and immediately launches herself at Haymitch. There is a brief moment where Katniss thinks that her petite sister is going to knock their sizable uncle over, but he manages to right himself.

"Uncle Haymitch!" Prim's voice is full of undisguised joy at seeing her uncle. Prim loves Haymitch. But then, Prim's capacity to love leaves very few out. Even a drunkard of an uncle who is sometimes there for her and most times not.

She knows Haymitch hasn't exactly had an easy go of it recently, but that doesn't dull the resentment. Before he enlisted he had been practically a second father to her and Prim. Now, in the two years he has been home, he has barely been a shadow of his former self. In the two years he's been back, he has turned to alcohol as a means of coping with the horrors he had seen during the war, and he had consequently lost his wife because of it. Maysilee simply could not bear to watch Haymitch drink his life away any longer.

"Come in, come in!" Prim insists, effectively putting an end to Katniss' plans to send Haymitch right out the door and back home on whichever mode of public transportation he arrived in.

Prim and Haymitch take a seat at the kitchen table as Katniss brews some coffee, in the futile hope that it will sober Haymitch up some.

Haymitch pulls a flask out of his pocket, which Katniss promptly confiscates.

"I'm making coffee." she says simply, and Haymitch knows better than to argue. He just mutters to himself, probably wishing he had stayed home. He knows that Katniss won't abide by his drinking while he is in their home, which is probably the reason he rarely visits anymore.

When the coffee is done, Katniss pours a cup for herself and Haymitch. She sits down at the table, where Prim is regaling Haymitch with tales of her friends and happenings at school.

Katniss and Haymitch just listen to Prim's anecdotes for a while - she has always been a very good story teller - until the ringing of Katniss' phone interrupts.

She glances down at the caller ID. "It's Peeta; I'm just going to go take this."

"That's her boyfriend." Prim offers as explanation.

Katniss sighs, but she doesn't bother correcting her sister. It isn't likely that Haymitch will remember this conversation come tomorrow, anyways.

"_Boyfriend_?" she hears him ask as she steps into the living room to take the call. She should probably be offended by the level of incredulity in his voice, but, really, who can blame him? The only guy she has ever really dated is...

Well, the point is that she understands Haymitch's shock, even if she doesn't appreciate it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Katniss. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm alright." she answers, watching from the distance as Haymitch pats his pockets and looks confused when he comes up empty. She is distracted for a moment as he lumbers around the kitchen loudly, most likely searching for a bottle of anything with so much as a fraction of proof.

She only hears the last few words of whatever Peeta was saying.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said, should I pick you up at 6 tonight?"

There is a wrap party tonight for the Hunger Games, and last week Peeta had invited her to be his date.

There had definitely been some convincing on his part in order to get her to agree. She told him she wouldn't fit in and that she had nothing to wear - words she never thought she would utter - but he had insisted it would be fine, she would look beautiful no matter what she wore, and that he really wanted her to be there. Which is how she found herself agreeing to an evening with people whose individual apparel for the party would probably be equal to her yearly income.

"How about I come pick you up?" Katniss asks. She glances over at Haymitch, who is still turning the kitchen over in his search of booze. She isn't ready for Peeta to see the dysfunction that is her extended family quite yet. She doesn't suspect that Haymitch will be sticking around much longer once he realizes that she doesn't keep a constant stock of liquor in the house, but she doesn't want to chance it.

"No, you don't have to do that," he answers quickly; almost too quickly.

"Why?" she asks, her voice taking on a bitter tone. "You don't want to introduce me to your family? Are you ashamed of me?"

She realizes, too late, that she probably shouldn't have said that, and that she is accusing him of exactly what she is doing. The filter between her brain and her mouth has never really worked at its full capacity, though. But she can't take it back, and it doesn't change the fact that she does want to know the answer.

"No!" He sounds truly aghast and taken aback. Something tells her she needn't doubt his sincerity. "Of course not, Katniss..."

So quietly that she isn't sure she hears correctly, he says, 'It's not you I'm ashamed of.'

The words are suggestive of family issues, and Katniss understands, better than anyone, wanting to keep such things private, so she lets it go.

He's still offering apologies and explanations: his mom is a lot to handle, it has _nothing _to do with being ashamed of her. She cuts him off.

"Okay, okay, I believe you." She laughs a little at his audible sigh of relief. "How about you drive to my house and I'll drive to LA?"

She's almost testing him, as if daring him to disagree with showing up to a Hollywood party in a '98 Sunfire, thus reinforcing her belief that she won't belong. Of course, being who he is, Peeta doesn't allow her any such cop out.

"Sounds good!" he answers without hesitation.

She is almost annoyed by how seemingly perfect he is. The words 'too good to be true' come to mind.

When Katniss finishes up her conversation with Peeta and heads back into the kitchen she isn't surprised to see Haymitch on his way out.

"I just remembered some errands I have to run," he says as he pulls on his boots.

Katniss rolls her eyes, but doesn't bother calling him on his obvious bullshit, opting not to upset Prim. She simply bids him goodbye and watches to make sure he gets into his cab alright.

Prim doesn't seem to suspect anything amiss, as she chatters excitedly about their uncle's brief visit. Not wanting to talk about Haymitch any longer, Katniss offers Prim a distraction.

"Hey, do you want to help me get ready for the party? Maybe you could do my hair in those nice curls you always wear."

Prim beams at Katniss and nods enthusiastically. She immediately switches gears and starts asking Katniss if she has picked out accessories or eyeshadow. She honestly hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Katniss' blank expression must answer Prim's questions. Prim ushers Katniss into the bathroom and says she will take care of the makeup and such while Katniss showers.

Katniss walks into her room ten minutes later and her mouth falls open at the sight before her. There are necklaces, earrings, hair clips, and various makeup products scattered over the expanse of her queen sized bed.

"Oh my God, I didn't even know I owned that much...stuff."

"You don't," Prim says with a giggle, adding another necklace to the pile, "most of it is mine and mom's."

"Wow."

Katniss grabs her new dress out the closet. She is ashamed to say that she blew almost half of her weekly pay cheques on the dress. And all to impress people she doesn't know. It is eerily unlike her. Perhaps she wants to blend in more than she would care to admit.

Katniss slips into her pajamas in favor of comfort while she is getting ready. Well, it shouldn't take too long, anyways...

The next two hours comprise of hair drying and curling, extensive makeup application (at least it seems extensive to her, she rarely applies anything other than mascara), and trying on nearly every piece of jewelry on the bed (at Prim's insistence). All in all, it is the longest she has ever spent getting ready for anything in her life.

She spins so Prim can get the full effect.

"You look perfect!"

The doorbell rings, and Katniss nearly trips down the stairs in the ridiculously high heels that Prim had talked her into wearing. She opens the door to reveal Peeta standing on her doorstep in an impeccably pressed suit and a blue tie that matches his eyes. Surprising herself, she is the first to speak up.

"Well, don't you clean up well?"

He chuckles as he steps inside. "I like to think so. You look beautiful."

His comment causes a rare blush to rise on her cheeks, even though it is no departure from compliments she has received in the past.

"Hi, Prim," Peeta says, waving.

Katniss turns around and Prim pokes her head out from the kitchen, with a caught expression on her face.

"Hi, Peeta," she says shyly.

"So, how are things at school? Those girls aren't giving you any more trouble, are they?"

Prim just stares for a moment, as if in disbelief that her favorite actor is genuinely interested in her life and problems, while Katniss is surprised that Peeta remembers her telling him about the girls centering Prim out at school. It seems as if every time they hang out he does or says something she doesn't expect, and she has to consistently re-evaluate her original assumptions on his character.

"No, no, it's fine. Good, actually," Prim rambles.

Peeta smiles. "That's good,"

They say goodbye to Prim and head to Katniss's car. She watches him carefully to see if he shows signs of regretting his hasty agreement to take her ancient car; she sees none. He just slides into the passenger side, not seeming put off in the least.

As soon as she pulls out of the driveway she realizes she has a problem.

"Damn it, how do girls drive in heels?"

She reaches forward and tries to pull the shoe off, and in the process she almost veers off and hits a parked car. Peeta grabs the steering wheel and straightens the car out.

"Whoa!" he says with a laugh. "Are you _trying _to get in an accident? If you really didn't want to go to the party, I would have totally blown it off."

She laughs, and for the first time in a while it comes naturally. "Somehow I don't think that would go over well, you know, with you being one of the leads of the movie and all."

He waves his hand dismissively. "Ah, they wouldn't miss me."

"I don't know about that." The words come out as flirtatious without even a conscious decision on her part to do so.

Judging by Peeta's smile, he doesn't mind one bit, though you'd be hard pressed to find an instance when he doesn't have a smile on his face.

* * *

As they near the restaurant, Katniss is the one regretting their choice of vehicle. Every car in a 5 mile radius had looked exceedingly more expensive than even Peeta's car. Even as she drives by, she doesn't miss the disapproving looks shot her way. They are probably wondering what business someone driving a Sunfire has in Beverely Hills. She is currently wondering the same thing.

She glances at Peeta out of the corner of her eye; he doesn't appear to notice the attention they are garnering. But that's probably because he's used to attracting attention.

"Oh my God," Katniss says under her breath as the restaurant comes into view; the sidewalk surrounding it is swarming with paparazzi. They are immediately bombarding everyone as soon as they step out of their car and hand their keys to the valet attendant. Her palms begin to sweat at the thought of braving that madness. At the moment she can't, for the life of her, remember why the hell she had agreed to this.

Peeta, noticing her distress, tells her to keep going; there is a back entrance.

Nobody bats an eye as they drive by. In complete contrast to the average passerby, they are apparently invisible to the paparazzi. Katniss is blessing her decision to go with the heavily tinted windows and the fact that nobody would expect Peeta Mellark to show up to a party in a car that wasn't manufactured in this millennium.

Katniss pulls into a dark lot around the back of the restaurant. There are a few stragglers near the entrance who probably anticipated someone trying to sneak in, but it is markedly less intimidating than their other option.

She turns off the car and Peeta takes her now-free hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." If he can see right through the obvious lie, he doesn't let on. Katniss is, by nature, a private person, and the idea of having her picture plastered in a magazine doesn't appeal to her in the least.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." His eyes are full of understanding and concern.

She shrugs noncommittally.

He shifts closer to her, so their faces are only inches apart. He closes the distance between them slowly, as if giving her a chance to back up. She doesn't.

Their lips meet for only the second time, but it feels as if they have been doing this for years the way their lips just seem to know, instinctively, how to move with one another. She vaguely wonders why she has waited so long to _really_ kiss him.

Peeta's hand that is not still holding onto hers reaches up to tangle in her hair and pull her closer. He pulls back just as the kiss is bordering from sweet to lustful.

"I've wanted to do that for a while."

Katniss just nods, feeling a little dazed. She feels as if she cheated them out of what should have been their first kiss with the closed-mouth peck she'd planted on Peeta after their first date. Which, she's ashamed to admit, was mostly just to appease him. But this kiss confirms in her mind that there is definitely a physical chemistry between them, something she had been previously unsure of.

She doesn't feel as nervous anymore, his touch seems to have had a calming effect on her.

"Let's go." she says, hoping she sounds more convincingly confident this time.

She grabs her clutch - an item that Prim had introduced her to earlier - and reluctantly lets go of his hand as they get out of her car. She can sense his surprise, in the way he starts slightly, when she is the one to rejoin their hands.

She steels herself for the imminent onslaught of flashes going off in front of her eyes. Well, maybe onslaught is an exaggeration; there is only five or six photographers milling around compared to the some fifty plus in front of Cicada. But for a girl that made the yearbook team practically hunt her down each year for her class photo, it is five or six too many.

As soon as the paparazzi catch sight of Peeta they converge on him. They start hurling questions at him and Katniss is surprised at the level of noise so few people can produce. The questions are mostly about who his 'mystery woman' is - and there's that dreaded phrase again. It makes her feel like she's just an extension of Peeta and his fame and not her own person.

Peeta ignores their questions with a practiced grace, and Katniss is more than glad when he leads her inside and away from all the questions and the expectations. But her relief is short lived.

It's like one of those bad movies where the music grinds to a halt and everyone stops what they're doing to stare wide eyed at that one unlucky person. Except the low, pulsating music is still flowing around the room and nobody is being quite that obvious, but they are clearly very intrigued by the couple that has just arrived.

They don't recognize her, obviously. And that in itself is enough to have every head turning their way. Katniss has never been self conscious - one of the perks of not giving a shit what anyone thinks of her - but feeling the eyes of the entire room upon her, silently judging her, has her coming dangerously close to fleeing the party and high-tailing it back to Santa Ana without a backwards glance.

Peeta's grip on her hand tightens as if he can read her thoughts.

Maybe she's just being paranoid. These wealthy, important people surely have better things to worry about than who their co-worker brought as a date to a party, right?

"So, Peeta, are you going to introduce us to your date?" Apparently not.

A bubbly girl in a low-cut black dress that Katniss recognizes as Peeta's co-star approaches and offers them each a flute of champagne.

"No, thank you. I have to drive."

Peeta similarly declines the drink offered to him.

The blonde haired girl only arches an eyebrow slightly before reverting back to her friendly smile, but Katniss doesn't miss the subtle distinction or the implication behind it. When she had driven by the front of the restaurant everyone was being dropped off in a black limo or SUV. She and Peeta are probably the only two in attendance that drove themselves to the party.

Is that what Peeta meant when he said he was going to pick her up and he was just too nice to say so? She did remember him mentioning at the club that he had a driver. And now he can't drink because his politeness clearly won't allow for her to be the only one abstaining from alcohol this evening.

Ever since this evening began she has been second guessing her every move. She doesn't like it; it isn't like her, and it's an unsettling feeling.

Peeta introducing her to his co-star snaps out of her thoughts.

"This is Katniss, we know each other from back home." The way he says this makes it seem like they are old friends, and, oddly, Katniss likes the sound of that. "Katniss, this is Jerrica."

Jerrica seems genuinely pleased to meet her, but Katniss is still wary. Getting to know Peeta has certainly opened her mind to meeting new people, but she is still largely untrusting of anyone who hasn't explicitly gained that trust.

Peeta, Katniss, and Jerrica make their way to the bar where Katniss and Peeta each order a drink sans alcohol. Maybe it's just her imagination, but she thinks she hears the whispers of someone wondering if she is an alcoholic. She shuffles a little closer to Peeta unconsciously.

After a few more drinks, a few more introductions, and a few more raised eyebrows, everyone makes their way to their respective tables for dinner.

As dinner is being served the conversation is riddled with inside jokes about the movie and subtle but not-so-subtle allusions to just how wealthy these people really are. She tries to stay engaged but she's floundering, she just can't find any common ground. Katniss is not much of a talker on the best of days, anyways.

She has to give Peeta credit, though. He always finds a way to steer the conversation back in a direction that she will be able to relate to. But it is mostly a futile effort with the overpowering personalities at the table.

When she finishes her dinner she excuses herself to the bathroom, just to have a moment alone to breathe.

The restaurant is so huge and the lighting so scarce that she ends up in a hallway that she's pretty sure is employees only. She spins around and narrowly avoids banging into a man rapidly approaching from the opposite direction. Katniss is about to offer an apology when the man sticks a camera in her face and nearly blinds her with the flash. She blinks her eyes quickly and tries to regain her bearings.

"What...?"

"Well, I've finally got the mystery woman alone!" A chill runs down her spine at his words. She tries to step around him, but he blocks her passage. "Oh, hey, I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Leave me alone, please," she says quietly but fiercely. She just wants to get away before anyone else notices their exchange. She doesn't want any more attention drawn to her.

He goes on as if she hasn't spoken. "So, you're dating Peeta Mellark? How did you two meet?" After a brief pause where she doesn't say anything he presses on, nothing if not persistent. "Come on, you're not going to give me anything? The place you met? Your name?"

"Please leave me alone." She says it a little louder this time, hoping he will get the picture.

Peeta comes through the door at the end of the hallway, and she can confidently say she's never been happier to see him.

"There you are. I thought you might get lost, this place is like a maze." He abruptly stops talking when he notices the man standing in front of her and the tension that the air is rife with; something that apparently is obvious to everyone but the 'reporter'. "Katniss, the bathrooms are down this hall and to the right." Peeta gestures in that direction and then turns to the reporter.

As Katniss walks away, undisturbed this time, she hears Peeta offering the guy an exclusive if he backs off. It bothers her that Peeta is doing him a favor after he just accosted her, also that Peeta thinks she needs someone to fight her battles for her. It's the kind of ancient, knight in shining armor/damsel in distress thinking that she just doesn't subscribe to.

She waits at the end of the hallway until Peeta comes back alone. He turns and stops once he realizes she's there.

"Oh, Katniss. Listen, I'm sorry about that. He's gone now, though."

"You didn't have to do that." Her voice doesn't come out as steady as she wants. The whole confrontation shook her up more than she would like to admit.

"Oh, it wasn't a problem. I owe them an interview, anyways," he says misunderstanding her meaning.

"Peeta, I have to go."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Go? Why?"

"I thought that I could handle this, but I can't. I'm sorry,"

The expression of confusion is slowly making way for one anticipating pain. She hates that she is probably going to realize that expectation. In a perfect world, guys as nice as Peeta Mellark would never have to endure the sting of rejection. But if Katniss has learned anything over the years, it's that the world they live in is far from perfect. She decides it is best to get it over with right away; there is no use in dragging it out.

"This is your life; the parties, the notoriety, the glamour. And that's fine...for you. But my life isn't glamorous. My life is trying to scrape up enough money to get my degree. My life is raising my thirteen-year-old sister because my mom just decided not to care anymore."

"Katniss, I -"

"I'm sorry, Peeta. It's not your fault, and it isn't my intention to try and make you feel sorry for me. But we're just from two different worlds. I hate cameras and you can't seem to escape them. How are we supposed to reconcile that?" She doesn't give him a chance to answer, though. Knowing how well spoken he is, he'll probably talk her into some sort of after party. But they both just need a clean break. "Can you get back to Newport alright? I don't want to leave you stranded."

"Yes, but please don't leave. Please, we can talk about this."

"I'm sorry, Peeta."

She steps forward and kisses him on the cheek, then turns on her heel and walks towards the exit.

The drive home is long. Without Peeta and only her constantly doubtful thoughts to keep her company, it drags on much longer than the drive to LA.

When Katniss pulls into her driveway and sees Peeta's car sitting in the driveway she realizes that he will have to come by and pick it up. She feels stupid now for not thinking of it earlier. She just hopes she is at work when he does come by. She knows it is cowardly, but she just can't bear to see the tortured, longing expression on his face.

Katniss pulls off her ridiculously expensive dress and the jewelry that had been weighing her down all night, and falls into bed.

She reaches instinctively on her bed side table for her phone to set her alarm, but she comes up empty. Then she remembers: her phone is in her purse, which she left in her chair while she went in search of the bathroom...which means her phone is in LA.

Great.

Losing her phone seems a fitting ending to the evening.

* * *

**Peeta's POV:**

Peeta slides into the backseat as Plutarch starts the car. The children's hospital in Orange that he is visiting today is only about twenty minutes away, and usually Peeta will drive himself to most anywhere he can get away with it, but sometimes it's just nice to sit back and relax.

Peeta looks at his phone, almost as a reflex now, to see if Katniss has texted him back. But it is still complete radio silence on her end. He had tried to give Katniss her space, he definitely understood where she was coming from, but after he went by her house to pick up his car the following afternoon and she wasn't there, he finally broke down and texted her. He texted her again the next day (in case the previous text didn't go through, he justified) and still no reply.

Four days have passed since the wrap party and Peeta is now resigning himself to the fact that she's probably never going to answer his texts anymore. His lifestyle is just too much for her to handle, and he gets that, as depressing as it may be.

He feels a prickle of anger remembering the way she had described his life, making it seem so simplistic. In one sentence she had stripped his entire profession down to asinine, shallow stereotypes. The worst and most confusing part is that he actually thought he had been making some headway, finally getting her to open up, if only the slightest bit. But he decides it is best not to dwell on things he can't change, and Katniss Everdeen's stubbornness definitely falls under that category.

It's tough for him not to think what if, but he really doesn't know what he could have done differently. To his thinking the date had been going perfectly until that point. He could tell that Katniss was freaked out by the media attention, but outwardly she had handled it extremely well. He thought that the snag with the one reporter was just that - a snag. He was, quite honestly, blindsided when she said she couldn't stay.

Peeta pushes these somber thoughts from his head as he arrives at the hospital. Today is about these kids, and they deserve all the happiness that he can give them.

When he walks in the doors he is greeted by the chief of the hospital, who looks extremely happy to see him.

"I'm so glad you could take time from your busy schedule to do this. You don't know how much it means to the kids."

He reckons he knows exactly how much it means to them, and the idea that he could bring such joy to children and families who really need it the most is, to him, the very best part about being a public figure.

The kids, who range from two years old to mid-teens, are at first very excited to see him and very shy. Some of the younger kids will hide behind the legs of nurses and peer out from behind their backs. But once he starts talking to them, they warm up to him, realizing that he isn't intimidating in the slightest. They let him into their world for the day, showing him their daily routines and sharing with him their fears and hopes for the future.

It is amazing to him, the positivity in the room, among kids that every reason not to be. They inspire him and he tells them so.

When he leaves, he looks at his watch and realizes he spent a lot more time than he had originally intended.

Dr. Aurelius walks him to the exit and, before he leaves, Peeta hands her a cheque. Her eyes bug nearly out of her head as she reads the amount, and tears instantly well up.

"Oh my goodness... Thank you so much. You know, you really made a difference in these children's lives just by visiting them. I know this has a personal significance for you..."

Peeta clears his throat nervously; this isn't something he wants to talk about.

"I'm honestly happy to do it. I would prefer for the donation to be kept anonymous, though."

Aside from the fact that he thinksit to be slightly narcissistic to do a good deed and then expect recognition, he also doesn't want to upset his mother.

"Of course, of course."

Peeta bids Dr. Aurelius goodbye and heads outside where Plutarch is waiting for him.

A little while later when Peeta walks in the door of his parent's house, he is shocked by who he sees sitting in the living room.

"Katniss?"

**Katniss' POV:  
**  
She jumps up when she hears his voice and turns to face the foyer.

"Hi."

He's walking slowly towards her with an adorably puzzled look on his face.

_No, Katniss, stay on track, _she reprimands herself.

"I have to say this is the last thing I expected. You haven't answered my texts."

His words aren't accusatory; he's just genuinely confused by her presence in his home. Hopefully he's not completely freaked out.

"I know, I lost my phone." He looks dubious so she adds, "Trust me, if I hadn't I wouldn't have gone to your parent's bakery and completely embarrassed myself asking for you."

"You did that? Really?"

I did. I'm pretty sure your dad thought I was some crazy fan until I showed him the pictures from the party, then he recognized me."

He looks vaguely amused by this notion, his mouth twisting into a half smile.

"This isn't something that I normally do," she feels inclined to tell him.

"Stalking guys via their parents and twitter?" he asks jokingly.

"No," she answers seriously, "admit when I'm wrong."

With those words, the light mood shifts. Peeta sits down on the couch and motions for her to join him.

She had been sitting her for the last half hour since Peeta's dad had led her back to his house and been kind enough to let her wait inside for Peeta. Even though she had insisted that she would be fine waiting in her car. She could easily see where Peeta acquired his kind disposition. As she sat in their beautiful home, she had contemplated how she was going to say this, and she was still contemplating as Peeta sat across from her, waiting patiently. Knowing that the exact right words are never going to come to her, she just decides to go with her gut.

"Um, well, now that I've had time to think, I couldn't just leave things the way I left it the other night. It was just, like you said, a lot to take in. I wasn't as mentally prepared for it as I thought I was. And then waking up and seeing my picture all over the internet? It was just...surreal."

Surreal is a gross understatement. Katniss had sat at her computer the next day and tried really hard not to type Peeta's name into the search engine, but in the end morbid curiosity won out. When she found the pictures from the wrap party, she was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the ones of herself and Peeta, never mind the number of websites running said pictures. How in the hell had the photographers captured so many pictures in her and Peeta's short walk in to the restaurant?

The only positive thing she could take from her ill advised search, is that she resisted the impulse to read any of the comments on the gossip sites. She knew instinctively that she would never make her way back to Peeta if she allowed herself to start caring what people were saying about her.

"I know, I'm sorry. I wish I could shield you from that, but it is a constant part of my life. There's really no getting around it. And, honestly, in the interest of full disclosure, it's really only going to get crazier from here on out."

She nods. She knows that with his movie just beginning to take off his popularity is only going to increase. She's terrified of how that could possibly affect her life going forward, but she really wants to take that leap of faith. With him.

In wake of her silence, Peeta goes on.

"I feel like since we've met you've had this wall up. You're always just a little further away than I would like; which is fine, I don't mind working for your trust, working for your affection. I just need to know that I'm not fighting a losing battle."

"I missed you," Katniss blurts out. It's all she can say, but somehow it's enough and somehow Peeta understands what it means for her to say those words to him.

And there's that smile that she has grown to appreciate.

"I can work with that."

* * *

**AN (again): Please review, and though I'm happy for every review, I'd really appreciate if you would say a little more than update soon! This is the most thought and effort I've put into any fanfic yet, so I'd like to know what you guys think. **

**How do you think everyone is as far as staying in character? How do you think the modernization of the story affects their characterization? Did you like the introduction of Haymitch? Did you believe Katniss and Peeta's reactions and emotions?**


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